Their Destiny
by Marie-J
Summary: A century old prophecy dictates the rest of their life. Willing or not, they'll have to get married and give birth to the next savior of the wizarding world. Harry / Severus mpreg. unfinished repost of an old fic.


Their Destiny  
>By Marie-J.<p>

NC-17

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Harry Potter / Severus Snape.

Disclaimers: the characters and the universe are not mine they are J.K. Rowling.

Summary: some prophecies have to be fulfilled, even if the two persons who have to do that are not really willing to do that at first. But Dumbledore is here to make sure that Harry Potter and Severus Snape accomplish their sacred duty.

feedback: please !

Note: this story is set in 6th year. Harry is 16 years old and Severus 35. AU (written before book five...)

Warning mpreg dub con mention of child abuse

I'M SORRY TO SAY THAT THIS IS AN 9 YEARS OLD STORY THAT NEVER GOT FINISHED AND MOST LIKELY NEVER WILL BE

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><p>Their Destiny.<p>

Hogwart's library, restricted section, Friday, 2001-09-18, 9PM.

Once again, Hermione Granger, the top student, the mistress bookworm, sat alone at her usual spot in the library late that evening. Not that she had an urgent essay to write. No. she had already done all those the professors had demanded for the next week. Not one month after the beginning of the term and the situation in the wizarding world seemed really quiet, much more indeed than it had been last year, when Voldemort, once again alive, and his armies of deatheaters had once again set to terrify everyone and disturb the peace. For one year now, tragedies involving killings and traps had been all over the newspapers. But then, at the end of the summer, the situation had become a little bit calmer. And no reason as to why. One could only guess that it was the proverbial sunny sky before the storm. Nothing could be done about it anyway . except maybe studying to gain a better control on her magical abilities and be able to protect herself eventually. Being a better witch, understanding more and more about it. that had to be the way.

She was there today because she had not yet figured how she could improve her marks in divination. She did not get it, really. It was neither logical nor based on reason. No books had been able to help her in this class. It was really disturbing. something that she could not learn thanks to books and all the experience the greatest witches and wizards had patiently collected all through centuries about this subject. And so she had come here with in mind the firm intention to find the answer to her trouble, a pattern that could explain the intricacies of this power she did not understand: prophecies and divination. At least there were tomes after tomes about Divination history and of course Hermione had found the most complete and large one to study. Prophecies that made the world by Elma Seeall. It gave a very clear view on the subject, explaining prophecies after prophecies, matter after matter, everything that had been foretold for the last thousands of years,. If only Professor Trelawney's class could be as interesting and as useful . One could always hope. Look at this one for example, titled : "The Protector". Fascinating, simply fascinating.

"The prophecy of the Protector was made by the great Merlin, nearly 1500 years ago. It states that every 150 years, a great mage, witch or wizard, gifted by the powers and qualities of the four founders of magic school, Gryffindor, Slitherin, Ravenclaw and Huplepuff, is born in order to protect the Light against the Dark Arts. Without his influence and the fear he can distil into evildoers' minds, the wizarding world would be submitted to Dark Arts adept for centuries. Their energy is unique and no wizard or witch can ever hope to kill or defeat him by usual means. This same amount of power that runs in their veins gives them a very extended lifetime, 170 years usually. Conceived the day when the light is equal to the darkness, he will be born the day when the light defeats the night.

Their conception in itself is quite marvellous. Two wizards or witches, spiritual heirs of two of the founders, are chosen from all eternity to be the protector's parents. They can be of any age, of any gender, of any country but are always related directly or not to two of the founders. Two days before the equinox of autumn, the year of his 149th birthday, the present Protector goes into a deep trance and receives the revelation of the name and qualities of the two parents. It is then his sacred duty to find them, to marry them and to perform on them a soul binding spell that will last for ever, therefore, one in body, soul and mind, the child they will conceive at midnight on the equinox will receive the strength and qualities of both of the parents. Both of them, linked in their core energy and eternal soul mates are for the next twenty years the most precious treasure of the whole wizarding world for they are the only one who are able to bring up, love and educate the protector in a proper way.

But this wonderful hope for peace and light impersonated by the Protector can be threatened in three occasions. If those dangers can't be discarded, the world would be submitted to Dark Arts adept for 150 years, till the next protector would be called. Those few years surrounding the life of the chosen parents, the conception, the birth and the childhood of the new Protector are the most perilous of the 150 years, as the evildoers will always choose those periods in order to try to reverse the order of the world and submit the light to darkness.

Wars, crimes and violence, in those time will rise against the Protector and those he must keep safe.

First of all, the parents, from the day of their birth to the day of the conception of their child, can be killed, which would annihilate the chances of this generation, as there can only be two persons for this task in one period. It's the duty of the protector to protect the people he think that they could become the chosen parents of his successor in order to prevent such a tragedy.

Secondly, from the day of the conception to the birth, the parent who is pregnant can not be killed as they are given momentary immortality. But if the evildoers kill the baby and impregnate in rape, blood and pain the same chosen parent on the longest night of the year, the new child will become the Destroyer and for the next 150 years will protect the Dark Arts. That is the reason why the protector will do everything he can in order to keep the identity of the pregnant parent a secret and cast a spell on that person that will mask the signs of the pregnancy to the world, except to the chosen parents and to himself. Furthermore, in order to prevent the evildoers to wait for the right time, the year of birth of the Protectors will be kept a secret thanks to a "obliviate" spell that will erase the memory of the exact age of the present protector from everyone's mind. The same protector will be careful to never state his actual age in any circumstances.

Finally, one year after the birth of the child, the Protector must become his successor's godfather and protect their soul of any violence or crime for the 19 years that follow. If an evildoer mage is to become the child godfather, their soul will be tainted and the child will become the Destroyer.

To see the list of the protectors, from Merlin to the present days, go to book 9, chapter 87."

Hermione, was amazed by this information. A line of great mages who had been protecting the world from evil for more than one thousand year. And no teacher had ever even talked about it once ! Of course it was maybe better to keep it secret. The book after all had been in the restricted area of the library, and she had not really asked anyone for any authorisation. But even then, Hermione could not stop thinking about what she had just read. The pieces were not yet all put together. but soon, she would get to see the whole picture. The elements however were already twisting aimlessly in her head. A protector. 150 years old. a time of crisis and difficulty. The rise and the success of Voldemort. his obsession about killing Harry, his fear of Dumbledore. his desperate attempts at returning for the previous years. The time was certainly near . She had to see for herself that list of Protectors, to know who was the present one, to figure his or her approximative age .. She had to..

"Hermione, what are you doing here ? Did you see what time it is ?" Ron's cheerful and teasing voice behind her interrupted her in her thoughts.

And all her concentration had gone away. "RON ! Don't you see I'm working !" she said angrily.

"You had promised you would play chess with me tonight, remember ?" Ron replied, not at all repulsed by his friend's display of annoyance. Taking it upon himself to help her get away from the library as quickly as possible, he had already stollen the books from the hand of a bewildered and glaring Hermione. "Come on, it's friday night. you'll have all the week end to read." he said softly, with his innocent puppy eye he knew she could not resist.

Hermione was eager to find the key of this new mystery but had already realised that her friend would not leave her alone till he would have had what he wanted from her. And afer all, he was right. those books would still be here on the morrow. There was certainly no emergency to all this. They had surely years to think this out..

"Okay, okay, I'm coming!" she said with a sigh and a last look to the bookshelves where she had been headed just a few seconds before this intrusion.

One minute later, the library was empty and the chapters about the Protector's prophecies had been magically removed from the books Hermione had just read. If anyone had wanted to read them, and he would have to find them first. But the Protector would not permit it at such a time: they were so close from the night of the conception.

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><p>Part 2<p>

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's private quarters,

Friday, 2001-09-18, 11 PM.

With the doors magically locked and all windows masked carefully, Dumbledore's bedchamber had taken a really mysterious atmosphere. Maybe it was because of the

dancing lights waltzing on the wall from the many candles scattered around the room on every piece of furniture. Or maybe it was because of the pentagram carefully painted on the floor in the exact middle of the place. Or more surely, it was because of the rays of power and the waves of concentration you could nearly physically feel irradiating from the Headmaster, who sat calmly in the center of the magical drawing. His eyes closed, a very serious and nearly anxious expression on the face, Albus was the proper image of dedication and calm power.

His mind however was not nearly as quiet as his body let show. This day was special and utterly important. He had known that all his life. And had waited for this instant for years now, for all the decades when Voldemort's army had been creating havoc in the magical world and spreading terror and crime to each family. As the Protector, he had chosen to accomplish his duty by teaching the right and good ways to generations after generations of witches and wizards, instead of going around heroically to punish dark mages. In his mind, all the student he had prevented to turn to the Dark Arts were greater victories than any punishment inflicted to any evildoer.

Look at Severus for example. If he had not been here to accept him back and to advise him during his stay at Hogwarts as a student and then as a teacher, he would have certainly been a really nasty and powerful dark mage. His father, one of the first Deatheaters to join Voldemort thirty years ago, had promised to give his son to the Dark Lord on the day of his 14th birthday and so it had happened. But Severus mind and soul were already won to Dumbledore who had been a second father figure to the traumatized boy.

If the Dark Lord had owned his body and made him accomplish horrendous things and acts, he had never gained his trust, his inner acceptance and his devotion. Those had been reserved for Albus entirely. The only one who had understood and comforted him for years during the ordeal. The one for whom he had decided to risk his life in order to help the Light against the darkness, the one for whom he had willingly become a spy and a secret hero. The boy had, more than anyone else maybe, suffered. He had been broken in so many ways that in order to protect himself, Severus had build high and unbreakable walls around his beautiful spirit in order to protect himself. Since then, he had hardly let anyone in. Such a pity. God knows that the man deserved peace, love and understanding right now and not to have his life and his sanity played around with again by once again being his spy in Voldemort's circles. At least, his soul had not been tainted, was still bright and pure if inaccessible.

Severus was the pride and the most beautiful victory of the Protector. His deepest regret as well. The boy and the man after him should never have suffered so much. No, never.

It had been tenfold easier with Harry Potter. The boy was so genuinely good, brave and innocent. All right, his life had been threatened seriously many times by the evilest of the dark mages, but it was always physical danger. His soul had never been affected by cruel mental torture and violent humiliations. Albus had only been there to prevent any permanent harm to be done to the kid. Easy indeed. And not to speak about the one who had always been good and faithful and would never turn bad. His beloved Gryffindors - James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Lily Evans, Hagrid, and Minerva McGonagall before them, and so many others. So many lives and souls he had saved for more than a century. Sadly enough, so many he had lost. Tom Riddle, Peter Pettigrew, Lucius son Draco even , maybe. So many he could not save from the dark arts ways.

And now, the time was so critical. In two days he would be one hundred and forty nine years and three month old. In two days, the future would be assured or doomed. In two days his successor would be conceived or chaos would reign for 150 years in the magical world. By who, he did not know for sure right now. At midnight, in fifteen minutes, the Fates would reveal to him the identity of the chosen parents.

He had ideas indeed. He was quite sure that Harry Potter would be one of them. The boy had survived so many death threats and attempts at his life. Any normal person would be dead. But not Harry, as if his destiny could not be disturbed by anyone. Even Voldemort had felt something for sure. If not, why would have he been so much eager to end a baby's life for no reason? Yes. Harry would certainly be one of them. But as for the other, there were so many probabilities, so many factors. The second parent would have to be from an old family for sure, related closely to two of the founders. Someone pure and with good intentions. That was indeed all he could be aware of for now about the second chosen one.

It was someone he would have to discover soon and to convince into this sudden marriage and soul binding in order to save the world. Not an easy thing to do. A sort of arranged wedding indeed. Even if the soul link provided very good chance for both the parents to fall in love with each other after a time. No secrets between them, no lies, no deceptions. Only understanding and eventually comfort and the secure knowledge that someone would always be there for them. It would not be easy for them at the beginning. Imagine someone telling you that you must marry and biblically get to know someone you don't know and conceive a special child less than 48 hours later in order to save the world! Anyway, Albus could not let himself think about that for long. There was no choice for them anyway and he would do anything to ease the discomfort. It was their destiny, after all, whoever they might be.

Five minutes. Four. Three minutes. Joy, nervousness and anticipation were twisting in his mind while he was waiting for the last few minutes to pass. Albus Dumbledore was very aware of the great responsibility he had, as the Protector, towards them, towards their child, toward the magical world and its future. The weight of this particular charge seemed too much even for him. But right now, the curiosity and the elation of knowing that soon the future would be secured prevented him from thinking too much about the great dangers that were crawling in the shadows all around him and his protgs.

Shaking himself from those thoughts, and started to send everything away from his mind. It had to be perfectly blank and free of any trouble in order to come into communication with the heavy and deep powers of the Fates. Deeply breath in. deeeply breath out. in. out. in . out. And slowly but surely he came into a profound trance. His body totally relaxed in tune with his calm mind and his peaceful soul. The voices and pictures could no come to him. And they did.

From a grey mist slowly a figure came to the front of Dumbledore's awareness. It's traits were still blurry, but the atmosphere behind it was slowly changing, according the surroundings with the caracteristics of the personnality of the chosen one. Red, gold, yellow flashes of colour spread all around the figure. And then animals came forth: a Lion and a Badger, symboles of the qualities of both Gryfindor and Hufflepuff, courage, bravery, sacrifice spirit, joy, and extreme loyalty. The figure finally walked out of the fog and appeared clearly, with caracteristical rebel brown hairs, bright green eyes and a scar on the forehead, while a loud and profound voice named him: Harry Potter.

Suddenly, at the opposite side of this space that seemed virtually infinite, the same process began, disclosing detail after details the qualities and identity of the other chosen one. The rays of colours exploded around the figure, green, silver, and blue, all colors of Slytherins and Ravenclaws, whose animals came forth, the snake sliding slowly just beneath the flying eagle. This one would be very smart, knowledgeable and most of all, ambitious, seeking the perfection in himself and for himself as well as in others, cunning and even devious if necessary. The figure suddenly was not anymore in the dark smoke. It was a lean body, tall but nervous and surely deceptively strong, a very pale skin contrasting with black long and straight hair falling on proud shoulders and eyes the color of night mixed with flashes of light, just as if they were throwing firebolts in a midnight sky. The voice claimed proudly the name at the same moment when Dumbledore finally recognised the chosen parent: Severus Snape.

Part 3

The Headmaster's private quarters, Saturday, 2001-09-19, 8 AM.

Albus Dumbledore had finally woken from his deep trance. Shock and elation were battling in his mind. He finally knew the names of the two chosen parents. And they were here, no need to frantically search for them. They knew him and were his loyal allies. But, oh my God! Harry Potter and Severus Snape! The two of them acted just as if they hated each other day in and day out. From the first Potion class to the present moment, they had not had any pleasant meetings. And their ages! A teacher and a student! There was a difference of twenty years between them! And not to think about what would occur if the simple idea of a gay relationship between them repulsed them. It was a common enough and accepted

situation in the magical world, not like these narrow-minded Muggles he had heard about. However, he did not even know where their personal tastes lead them to. How could it be more difficult to convince them?

That was bad! That was really bad! They would never accept it in good heart and with happiness. They would be angry, utterly furious. They would Kill him. As simple as that. They would kill him. Oh! Why did the Fates not choose two people who had at worse neutral feelings for each other? It was sure, by Merlin, they would kill him! If only once in six years, they would agree with that and pair up together in order to strangle him!

Can you imagine the two of them together for a day and not trying to kill each other? Never in his life he would have expected that. Of course somehow he had known that Harry had been chosen. But Severus? Well, he was brave, smart, devious enough to survive and protect the one he had to keep alive. Loyal too. And from a very old and magical, if dark, family. Wasn't it the daughter of the third Protector who had married a dark mage by the name of Snape nearly one thousand years ago? This only assured the presence in his blood and his spirit of the qualities of two of the founders.

And if he thought seriously about that, if he carefully analyzed Harry and Severus' present relationship, or even better, lack of, he had to admit one thing: they did not yet know each other. They indeed had a very false picture of each other. They only saw each other's masks. And yet they had so many things in common. Albus saw that perfectly but was absolutely sure that both the chosen would take a great deal of time to even see that and then acknowledge and accept that simple fact. They both had a hard life, a horrendous family background and a sad and abused childhood. They could understand and comfort each other, if only they knew how, if only they tried.

The couple could be happy one day . yes, indeed ... happy. He would do everything to give them that at least. And anyway, they would have no choice at the end. It was their destiny. They had been made for each other and for their baby. If they liked it or not was not a great matter to this case. He knew that they would agree at the end of the storm. They were too highly conscious of their duty to the magical world to let it down.

That settled in Albus' mind, he had one more problem to think through. If nature this time could not determine which of the two would be the pregnant parent, as they were both male, he, as the present Protector had to decide the matter for them. The case had already occurred, but, as with all the Protector's birth circumstances, it was known by only him. His own parents had been two witches after all, and he was there. And the sixth Protector had had two fathers. Nothing was impossible for his magical powers. A simple but strong universal fertility spell would do the trick. No worry about mechanical problems.

No. The fact was he was not yet sure of his choice. Obviously, Harry would be the best choice, emotionally speaking. He would love the child the minute he would be conceived. And he would even agree willingly to that. The magic of giving life, of feeling it growing in himself, the particular link that would form between the "mother" and the baby to be born. All that would be precious to him.

But no, that was impossible. It was far too dangerous for the security of both the pregnant parent and the unborn child. First, Harry was far too young. He was tall and quite strong for his 16 years old. But he was only a teenager, still nearly a child. His body was not really accustomed to pain and the kind of endurance and stamina that this male pregnancy would require. Severus could definitely sustain it. He had already been submitted to the cruciatus curse more than once, whenever Voldemort had had something to reproach to him. It was sad and hard to admit it, but that was the truth. He knew how to suffer and knew how to hide it from the world.

To hide it. That was the key world in this situation. The whole pregnancy would have to occur under his direct protection, at Hogwart's, an enclosed and crowded place. It would be difficult to hide it in front of every one. There was so many possible spies here working for Voldemort, on the school ground. Malfoy, Goyle, and their friends. He did not even want to know what would happen if the news arrived in Voldemort's ear.. At least Severus was devious enough to live as if nothing had changed even at eight months pregnant. And his private quarters, in the dungeons, away from both students and teachers, and not in a common dormitory with five other curious boys. Of course Albus would perform a spell to hide the visual effect of the pregnancy, but Severus would be more capable not to give any other clue. Harry was too genuine, too easy to read, unlike Severus.

And the latter hardly socialized with anyone after all. Not like Harry who was, despite all his efforts the centerpoint of every student's attention. Imagine an eight months pregnant Harry riding his broom on the Quidditch pitch. That would not do. It had to be Severus, there was no other safe choice.

His mind settled when he reached this decision, Albus Dumbledore finally focused on the real world surrounding him. The clock on the wall informed him that it was already 10 AM. He had missed breakfast in the Great Hall. He had hoped he could speak to Severus and Harry then, and observe them to see in which state of mind they were. No such luck. Of course he would not tell them the whole truth straight away, just ask them to his office after lunch, for tea maybe. This matter was better revealed in private places, away from spying ears. And today was Saturday, which meant no class. They could be anywhere!

With a deep sigh, he finally rose and after he had distractedly stroked his Phoenix' feathers, he walked down the stairs toward the Great Hall, barely answering the polite greetings and salutes of the students he came across in the hallways. Maybe they were still here. Or maybe one of Harry's friend would be still here and could help him find him. Luckily, it was not a Hogsmead week end.

And Severus nearly never left the school ground nowadays, except when summoned by the Dark Lord. He would perhaps be in his office..

Suddenly as he walked in front of a window, his attention was pulled from those musing by the sight, on the Quidditch pitch of the two people he was looking for. Both Slytherin's and Gryffindor's teams were there, seemingly willing to jump at each other throat. Certainly an other fight over the possession of the ground for the first training session of the year. Every year it was the same scene. And in the middle of the circle formed by the angry teens stood Harry and Snape, arguing harshly. Their face was deeply marked by anger, Harry as red as Severus was pale, eyebrows raised, eyes darkened and flashing furiously to each other. What an electricity between them.

And once again they were at it. How would they react to the news, Albus did not even want to think about it. With the twentieth sigh of the day, he took his wand, and aiming it at the two of them, murmured quickly an "auditum amplificare" spell, which would let him hear every thing that went on there. Meanwhile he took off and quickly headed toward them.

"So our Famous Harry Potter thinks once again he owns the whole school!" Snape snarled in his coldest and most sweetly sarcastic voice.

"Sir." Harry, blushing furiously at the mocking tone, tried to protest only to be interrupted once again.

"Do you really think that the Quidditch pitch has your name written on it, Mister Potter, that you deny the students of my house the right to practice as well?" Snape went on with his snapping remarks.

"SIR! As I was trying to say before YOU interrupted me. We arrived here first in the morning and YOUR Slytherins only came after us. The practice time is OURS. It has always been like THAT ! . Sir !" Harry, forgetting all good sense in this state of mind, shouted back to the professor whose face went paler, if possible.

"I gave them authorization to train RIGHT NOW, Potter. Are you DEFYING ME, Potter? Maybe you want to beg me to take 100 points from Gryffindor ?" Snape's poisonous and extremely soft whisper came out of his very thin lips, earning a few delighted if discrete chuckles from the Slytherin team, especially Draco Malfoy.

Harry was about to explode when a hand on his shoulder startled him and Dumbledore's calming voice killed his outburst before it even could come out of his throat.

"Now, now, Harry. I'm sure that some agreement can be reached that will suit both Gryffindor and Slytherin teams. Let me think ... why don't you share the space. The Gryffindors on the right of the pitch and the Slytherins on the left. What do you think? Is it suitable ?" The Headmaster asked genuinely, knowing perfectly that it was more an order than a mere suggestion that he had just given them. And so Harry and the Gryffindors players understood, as they silently nodded their assent. "Is it, Professor Snape ?" he asked a second time, when he felt the Slytherin's hesitation. He however had not long to wait to hear the forced and resigned answer: "Of course, Headmaster".

At these words, the two teams walked away toward the part they had been assigned to, leaving Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor Snape and Harry Potter whose shoulder was still held firmly if gently by the old wizard, on the place of the argument.

"You'll come, both of you, to my office today after lunch. I need to talk to you. Is that clear?" Dumbledore demanded in a very serious voice.

"Yes, sir!" Harry answered quite cheerfully before running toward his teammates.

"Very well, Headmaster" Snape replied, a little dejected but a mask of calm and humility on his face hiding his increasingly bad mood. And he turned suddenly and walked away toward the castle.

"Perfect" thought Albus Dumbledore. "They think I will reprimand them on their behavior toward each other. Let them think ... Better that than the truth. I'm sure they will hope that it was the real reason when they'll leave my office tonight."

* * *

><p>Part 4<p>

I've been told that the year was wrong as in second year, it was 1992. So consider that this entire story happened in 1996 (6th year) and not 2001.

Great hall, Saturday, 1996-09-19, lunch time.

The great hall was already full of students eating and talking loudly at their tables when Harry, Ron and Hermione arrived from Quidditch training and walked to the Gryffindor's part of the room. Although only Harry was part of the team and therefore of the fight, his two best friends had also witnessed the argument what had occurred earlier this morning. And of course, that still was the main subject of their passionate and angry conversation as they sat at their usual spots.

"I don't believe it. Even on Saturdays he has to make our lives into hells. Snape and his Slytherins. I swear. this. this. vampire! He drinks Gryffindor's points as Dracula would do with blood. Disgusting!" Ron went on with a passionate solo about one of his favorite subject that had begun almost five minutes before.

"Dracula! Yeah, you're so right, Ron! But what else is new? He has always hated us anyway" Harry said with a quite tired tone. That very same conversation had been coming again and again for years now. It was getting old, really. Annoying and tiresome, in fact. Of course, Ron did not seem to catch on the sarcasm.

"I can not believe that Dumbledore even think about letting him near students, children. Do you know how dangerous it could be?" He asked emphatically.

"Oh! Shut up, will you!" Hermione finally interrupted him. "Dumbledore trusts him and I trust Dumbledore's judgement. I'm sure he knows what he is doing. Maybe Snape is not as bad as he seems after all..." She mused, teasing.

And of course the hot discussion went on and on between Harry's best friends. Harry however had stopped listening to them for a while. The more he thought about Snape and his attitude, the less he understood what could motivate such a man. He really did not get it. Harry had hated him for a long time. All through his first year, and maybe even through his third year. But time after time, the horrible and snappy and mean teacher had saved his life and tried to protect him and the whole school. If he had to be fair, Harry could not keep on hating the man.

But in everyday life, it was really difficult to live on this principle. Impossible even. He seemed so angry and bitter. It was as if he really enjoyed his students' fear and hate for him, just as if he was yearning for it. And every student as it seemed. But with Harry it seemed a bit more personal. Snape had singled him the first day and had never stopped his taunting and mocking remarks to Harry. It was so irritating. The way he was always mocking him, loathing him. And then the next minute, he saved his life and defended him in the shadows. He really did not get it. Snape was a mystery. A very irritating and unbearable mystery. And now, Dumbledore had asked him to his office, no doubt he would have to apologise to Professor Snape and to make peace. What a joke ! It would never work anyway.

In a sudden impulse, he looked up toward the staff table and met the cold, annoyed and yet unsure stare of the one he was just thinking about. However, one second after Snape had been aware of Harry's questioning regard, the usual sneer had come back on the pale face of the teacher who suddenly stood and hurried out of the Great Hall. He had certainly heard their comment about him acting like a vampire and was wondering how he could retaliate best, Harry thought automatically. This meeting promised really to be something.

And not ten minutes later, Harry arrived in front of the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's study entrance at the same moment than Professor Snape. Glancing quickly sideway to his Potion Master, Harry could easily guess that the mood he had seen him a few minutes ago had not lightened. Snape seemed to try his best to ignore him, not willing to start a new argument in front of the Headmaster's office as for some time now, there was not a week without this kind of vocal duels between them.

"Potter" Snape greeted, trying to look coldly polite.

"Sir" Harry replied with the very same tone.

Once this mask of civility taken care of, Snape turned back to the Gargoyle and seemed to search his mind for a few seconds before finally mumbling something that sounded like "choconutfrogs", a derisive sneer clearly spread on his face. The strict and always serious professor certainly found it quite ridiculous and childish for the great wizard who had chosen it. The door however opened right away on the smiling and quite nervous face of Albus Dumbledore, as if he had been waiting for them to arrive just behind it. Actually it was exactly what had happened but the younger wizards did not need to know that.

"Ah, here you are. Come in, come in" he invited them cheerfully, pulling them into the room and magically locking and isolating the room from any intrusion for the time of the meeting. Three comfortable armchairs were arranged around a small table, near the fireplace: two on one side, one on the other. Albus had carefully placed the furniture for the occasion, to make the atmosphere a little cosier friendlier and much less formal. Perfect for the matter that would be discussed here. The Protector did not want to take on a position of power and authority upon the two future parents of his successor. They would have to agree and to do it willingly, not because of an order he would have given them. And after all, he hoped they saw him more as a friend, a father and a grandfather figure for respectively Severus and Harry than as only the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Taking the seat nearest to the fireplace for himself, he indicated the two others for them. "Sit down, sit down, Harry, Severus!" And of course they obeyed immediately, only a little surprised not to be invited to settle in front of the desk. Albus however had decided to keep on the cheerful atmosphere as long as possible all through the meeting, as a sort of comforting blanket for the moment the truth would be revealed and the shock would take over.

"Make yourselves comfortable. Don't be so nervous! You know that I would never do something too hard against either of you, don't you? " He admonished them gently. "May I offer you tea, and maybe some cake, a biscuit?" As he was speaking, he had magically summoned it and was already serving it for them.

"Thank you sir!" Harry hurried to answer, happy to see the Headmaster in a good mood. The meeting would perhaps go better than he had expected after all.

Severus however was not fooled by this display of joyfulness. He had been summoned here for one reason and no matter how cheerful Dumbledore seemed, he would sooner or later get to the point. And if Severus had anything to say about that, he'd rather finish with it as soon as possible. He had better things to do than being chastised in front of a student.

"Headmaster, listen. I know that scenes like the one you have interrupted this morning are not ones that you usually want to occur in your school. But you can not sincerely expect me to stop defending my house and to accept this boy's usual lack of respect toward me." He said in a soft voice tainted with contained anger, pointing at Harry with murderous eyes. "Not ten minutes ago, I was a vampire if you believed him! I don't have to stand that and I won't, Albus!"

Already, Harry was out of his chair, fuming with madness at this and getting ready to retaliate with an equally bitter recrimination. Snape had such a talent at turning the truth against him. That was so unfair. "What? Sir, I swear."

Dumbledore could only sigh deeply at that. They were once again at that. Fighting like dogs and cats. And they would be married in 24 hours... "SEVERUS! HARRY! Will you please calm yourself for one minute?" He stopped them in a loud and clear order.

Startled by this outburst so out of character, they immediately stopped their argument and went still in their armchair, wide eyes on the old wizard who already had calmed down and was his usual self. "If I must admit I'd be extremely pleased to see both of you get along a little better together and show more respect and affection toward each other, it is not the main topic I wanted discuss here with you." Albus admonished them, keeping eye contact alternatively with both his charge. He decided to keep a few minute of silence them, pondering what he was going to say next and how to present it to them in order to prevent a real revolution to occur in this room. He patiently waited for what he had just told them to settle in their heated mind. It only took three minutes and a half for both Harry and Severus to not their agreement to the truce that had basically been demanded from them.

"First, let me ask you a question. Have you ever heard about the Prophecies of the Protector? " he asked straight to the point, all nervousness forgotten. He had to tell them at some time and he had just seen how dangerous and unstable each minute could be when the two of them were locked in the same room. So much had to be done before the end of the week end. It would help no one to lose time in anyway. The more time they would have to get use to the idea of what they had to accomplish, the better.

His question in the mean time he had made himself those reflections, had elicited some perplexed expressions on the younger wizards' faces. Harry was the first to give his answer when he shook his head firmly "No, I haven't, sir. Never". What was this question anyway? A new danger to face, an enemy to defeat, a new fear to overcome?

Severus, eyebrows narrowed and an absent look in the eyes seemed to search an ancient memory, when he dreamily answered in turn "Yes, I seem to remember having read something about that when I was very young, at six maybe. It was a legend I think. some extremely powerful wizard whose destiny and duty is to protect the world against the armies of the dark arts. Wasn't it?" His soft voice, a little unsure, seemed really far away, as if lost in a long forgotten memory, which earned him a genuinely impressed and surprised look from Harry. He would have never imagined that the hated Snape could talk this way, so . calmly, so . normally, with this. yes, nostalgic accent. Could it be that the Potion Master was human after all?

"Yes, that's it." Dumbledore confirmed gently before continuing his lecture. "This wizard is the last obstacle that prevents the Dark Mages to take over. His powers are so far superior to theirs that he is feared by even the meanest, the cruellest and the strongest of them. He receives his qualities and talents from the four founders of the magical society as we know it right now, Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. He is their heir, by the blood, the mind, the heart and the abilities. There is only one of them in every generation, exactly, every 150 years. His or her, for that matter, existence is the most precious thing in the wizardling world. Without this precious gift from the Fates to the world, Voldemort and other like him would have already won and settled their reign of terror and horror."

He then made a pause to judge of his audience's reaction. Harry was engrossed into the story he had just been told, just like a child would be with a fairytale. His eyes had slightly widened in awe and his deep interest was written in the air of concentration that was spread over his face. However, he had not yet linked that lecture to any present reality. This information was still very theoretical for him and only woke his imagination. Severus, with his quick, logical and practical mind had analysed the elements and asked out loud the question that haunted already his mind. "What does it have to do with us and our present situation?"

Dumbledore, who had not expected less from the sharp spirit of his charge decided to be perfectly sincere and revealed the first of all the truths they would have to know before long. "I am the protector of this time." He simply told them and then let the silence settle, once again carefully waiting for their reaction.

The teenager felt his jaw drop and his eye nearly come out of their sockets. He was staring in complete awe to the man he admired so much. "You .you . you . are the Protector, Sir?" he shuttered nervously when he had found his voice back, to make sure he had heard the Headmaster correctly.

"Yes, I am, Harry." he confirmed smiling gently.

Severus, a little surprised at first, and deep in thought for a few seconds, started to follow once again the logic of his mind out loud, in this same far away tone. "Of course! It explains so many things. Why did I never guessed it on my own? The deep fear from Voldemort.. the way he preferred always doing his crimes when Dumbledore was not here.. The victory of the Light even when the dark arts are so strong against us.. Yes! That's obvious!" He then made a short pause, focussing his attention back on the newly revealed Protector. "But why do you tell us that right now? And for that matter, why do you tell us at all? Are you in any kind of danger that would threaten your life and therefore the world?" He inquired, frowning deeply in worry for the man he had always looked up to as a father.

At this last question, Harry's eyes narrowed in determination and worry mixed: "Yes, are you in danger. I swear I'll protect you, sir!" He offered bravely and without any hesitation, earning a bright smile of gratitude from Dumbledore.

"I'm quite all right and nothing more than usual came up to threaten me. Don't concern yourselves over that, please." He reassured and thanked them before clearing his throat and continuing. "In nine months and a little less than two days I'll be 150 years old, which means that my successor must be conceived tomorrow at midnight. The parents have been chosen from the time of their birth for their bloodlines, their great latent powers and last but not least, their high fidelity to the Light. Last night, I had a vision that revealed their identity to me. They will be married and bonded tomorrow." His voice trailed off there as if he was searching carefully his next words.

That was just the time needed by Harry to interrupt him. His curiosity was at its highest point as well as his desire to help in this matter in anyway he could. "How can I help? Do you need me to find them, or to protect them maybe? What can I do?" He hurried to offer, obviously not even thinking he could be directly concerned by this information but totally willing to face any danger in order to make sure that the prophecy would be fulfilled. Pure Gryffindor courage.

But Severus was treating this information with the cold and extremely clever strategist mind he had inherited from Slytherin. His eyes locked on the Headmaster, he had listened carefully the new and amazing information. This was of the greatest importance for the cause he was sworn to defend and to die for. It was basically a matter of life and death for the whole magic society of those who had chosen the Light. It was the future that was at stake. It did not take a genius to understand that. But what was bothering him was the fact that Albus had decided to reveal it to them, Harry and himself. That was not as if they usually worked together as partners. Harry fought in the spotlight of everyone's attention when himself only made his moves in the dark. He could not see what they could possibly do together in that matter. The boy was so genuinely innocent and nave that was a wonder he was still alive, with this obvious lack of deep reflection. Okay, not really a wonder. Severus was always here to make sure of it after all. He would need some reality classes if he wanted to make it twenty years old.

But they were certainly not here because they had to find those people or to protect them. Other were around who could do it tenfold better than they could ever hope to accomplish these tasks. There was certainly another reason to this meeting. Severus had carefully observed Dumbledore's face and behaviour. He had seemed quite nervous. His smile was maybe a little forced. His eyes sent flashes of worry and . apprehension in them. There was obviously something else behind it.

Severus gaze then travelled from Albus to Harry and back for a few seconds as a few ideas assembled themselves in his mind. A doubt was born that would not leave him alone. There was something, there, very close from the surface of his mind, just underneath his understanding of the situation. This prophecy had to concern Harry directly. Severus knew his own humble place in this war and his worth, or better, his lack of worth! He had no illusion about that: he was only a lowly soldier, a slimy spy. But Harry had no doubt a great destiny. Just look at his potential, this wild energy and power that one day would fill his whole being. And his luck! A little too young and lacking of experience yet to face the battles he would have to go through.. But anyway, the boy was too special to be just anyone..Yes, that was it! Harry must have been chosen to be the parent of the future Protector.

The calculating expression on Severus' features told Dumbledore that Severus was indeed starting to see a part of the truth. What a great mind this man had developed in his life! Little could pass above his awareness. But it could not be a good thing to wait for him to finish his reflection. Easier for Dumbledore, yes. But that was his duty to tell them. Their trust in him depended on it. What would they think after all if he had not the courage to admit sincerely the truth that would change their life forever, looking at them directly in the eyes. Albus could no longer delay it. He took a deep calming breath, released it slowly and stated the sentence with his gentlest, his most serious and yet compassionate voice.

"No Harry, that's not it." He answered first before going on with the hardest part of the conversation. "In this vision the Fates sent to me last night, as I was just saying, the identity of both the chosen parents were revealed to me. It's you. Both of you. Harry Potter and Severus Snape, you will have to marry tomorrow, to have you soul and mind bound together and finally to conceive a child together in a little more than thirty hours, at midnight tomorrow. I'm sorry but it will happen or the world will know a very dire and dark future" He then paused and gave the time for this bomb to explode completely, blowing away the younger wizards' minds.

Harry, eyes widely open, regard unfocussed, jaw falling to the floor, was not really able to realise yet what had just been revealed to him. He had heard nothing after the names had been stated. What? That was a joke, wasn't it? No doubt, he had not heard correctly. He wanted to protest, to say something, to laugh at the joke even but couldn't even make a sound. That was simply a mistake. Anyway it was absolutely impossible. It was not even necessary to think about that. It was too much ridiculous to be true. He could not have been chosen to father a child. No way! "B-but. That can't be! You must be wrong! How.?" he started to reply, in total denial when his voice had finally found its way back to his throat. And then an idea surged at the front of the total mess that was his mind at this point. His name had not been the only one. It had been associated with another one: Severus Snape. A wave of relief travelled through his body in visible tremor. That would not happen, he was sure of that. "Look, that's impossible. We are both male. We can not possibly create a child. It' physically impossible, you know that. That's simply . impossible!" He defended himself, repeating himself in his haste to prove his point and eager to finally hear from the Headmaster that what he had heard was only a dream. or a nightmare.

Severus however had gone paler than death itself. He had recognised the seriousness and the sincerity, as well as the sorrow and the fatalism in Albus's voice. Oh my God, it had to be true. And even Potter's objection was not good enough to reassure him. He knew that there was really little that magic forces could not accomplish. He was going to be. God, no, please not that. married, bonded to the boy next to him. He turned then his gaze to his fian- no not that word, never, it was too hard to even think about it. One glance at him and he went paler still. No, not that. He could not even look at him more than a second. What was expected of him was horrific. no, that could not happen to him.

He could not even picture it in his mind. He knew in the intellectual part of his brain that his fate had been decided and he could not escape from it. That was not even as if he had any real choice in the matter. After all the Fates had foreseen it and so it would happen. And the alternative was unthinkable. But right now, his emotions, his revolt at this decision were reigning in his mind. Nooooo! His hurting heart was crying out loud in his soul.

Dumbledore did not need a long time to analyse their state of mind, their utter shock, denial and revolt. They were clearly written on their face. He had however to destroy any doubt right now. It would be painful for them to hear and to take in, and for him to see their distress at his words. And it would get worse in a minute. For now, he was sure that they had not really thought about all the consequences involved by his revelation. For now it was only the shock of having been chosen. But soon the reality of the wedding, of the night that would follow and what they would have to do in order to conceive the child, and finally the reality of the pregnancy and its long nine months, would penetrate their brain and make its deadly strike. Once again Dumbledore decided to go straight to the point and end the suspense as quickly as possible.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but the gender of the parents are of no concern here," he stated matter-of-factly, looking the sixteen years old boy dead in the eye and killing here the last hope Harry could have had. He then averted his eyes and locked them on Severus' before adding "A fertility spell will be performed tonight on you, Severus so you can be impregnated and carry your and Harry's child till his birth.

That was really too much to bear for both of them. Harry was so deeply in shock that he was like dead to the world, his eyes unfocussed and his brain shut to the world surrounding him. Severus had a more physical reaction. Being a parent, he had almost agreed, intellectually at least, certainly not emotionally yet. But to be the "mother"? That was too much. Suddenly, he felt the walls pressing on him, crushing him, making him a prisoner. He could not stay here. He had to flee this room where he felt oppressed. His mind was only one deafening cry. NOOOOOOOOO ! As in another world, he got up, letting the chair fall soundly behind him, turned on shaking legs to the door, said a strangled automatic "alohomora" and ran through the opening door.

Part 5: Severus' reaction

Warning: MAJOR ANGST! a very emotional part, with hard revelations and memories from Severus.

Thanks to my betas Pastles and Qwikshot and to Azrael whose opinions were very helpful in order to keep the characterisation as natural and real as possible. Thanks !

Dumbledore was not really surprised at Severus' outburst and desperate run for his private rooms down in the dungeons. And Harry's nearly catatonic state had to be expected too. You don't receive such news without that kind of reaction. In an ideal world, they would have time to cope and accept their fate. However, they had no such luck and would have to be ready for what would have to take place tomorrow. Albus really hated to have to do that to these children, but once again, he had no choice in the matter. He would have to help them through that, to comfort them, to make them see some truths that would sooth their pain.

He had to talk to them both, privately. And Severus first. He had to calm him before he could do something to hurt himself further. And, then only, Harry.

"Harry, please stay here until I come back to talk to you. It's important. Do you understand?" He asked softly, kneeling in front of the young wizard and searching his troubled eyes. When he finally received a little nod, two minutes later, as his only answer, he left the room and hurried after the Potion Master.

Meanwhile, Severus had rushed out of the office just as if his life or sanity depended on it. And in a way, it did, after all. Luckily, the sunny weather that had led the students outdoor had prevented anyone from seeing the pitiful and terrible scene of the distraught and madly afraid man moving between the high walls of the castle, his black robe flying behind him like a giant crow. He had run through the door, along the hallway, flew down the stairs and finally found his private quarters, next to his classroom and his own office.

The door urgently and loudly slammed behind him, Severus was finally in the relative security of these four walls covered by his familiar and precious possessions, his books, bottles, boxes, potions and samples. Things he knew, things he owned, his home. It was however not enough to offer him the kind of comfort and reassurance he needed, or to ease the pain, the doubt and the anger he felt storming in himself, threatening to destroy the foundations of his very existence as he had rebuilt it after Voldemort had... No, he would not think about that right now. It was too much, too hard. He had tried to forget about that but it always came back to haunt him. And now, this had to happen.

Those rough emotions were raging in him, not even leaving him with the possibility to fully analyse and understand his own situation. Too much pressure, and now pure panic had taken control of his inner being. He had the deep feeling that all was sliding away from his control. For fifteen years now, he had been a teacher, a respected head of house, a soldier for the light, a spy again, but he had always been ALONE, safe behind the shields he had erected around himself. They were now stealing his identity, his freedom, all things he had painfully worked to rebuild after the first "death" of his "Master" and then to maintain after his return. He felt once again used, his body and his future taken away from him. For the Light, yes, but that did not matter right now. Betrayed, reduced to an instrument to a goal once again. And always this same scream in his head, this irrational overload of his thoughts resumed in one word: Noooo.

He had started hyperventilating slightly. Leaning against his desk, his hand had on its own will grabbed the glass of water left on it from the previous night of reading and grading papers. He needed that. He felt oppressed. He felt overwhelmed by all these conflicting and powerful negative emotions. But he could not show it, he had learnt this much in his life. Never show what you feel, never give that to them. It would hurt you more than anything. It was a weakness. And look at him now, fleeing the Headmaster's office like that. What a shame! God! What a wreck he had become! Him? A "chosen", indeed!

The anger and self-loathing were building up inside him and would not find any conscious physical release, as Severus had made it a rule of existence to keep everything inside, to never talk to anyone about. No, don't think about that, no! But this time, the pressure was too great. His body was showing signs of his panic and his pain: his shallow breathing, his legs shaking, and then, at the peak of his inner crisis, his hand crushing in a death grip on the glass he was holding, breaking it in hundreds of sharp shards. Some of them cut deeply into his palm, sending a liberating physical pain to Severus brain. A welcomed distraction. Slowly, Severus raised his hand in front of his face, watching it distantly, fascinated by it, as if it was not his own, as if the pain he felt was someone else's. The blood flowing freely from the deep wound seemed to take with it the energy and the life it contained, the raging and wild forces of his anger, only leaving despair in his heart and soul: willing or not he would have to go through all that, to ... give himself to Potter and to carry their child, to give up his body for them to use.

At this moment, the door behind him opened and Dumbledore entered into Severus' private quarters. The sight that greeted him made his heart cry for the man in front of him. It was worse than he had expected. Somehow, this news had touched a very soft point and caused this overreaction. The picture of Severus, standing motionless in the middle of the room, his hand bloody and his face as pale and expressionless as death, with only his horrified eyes as a proof of life, reminded him of similar scenes he had not wanted to never see again. The poor child.

Dumbledore slowly walked to Severus, advancing calmly, as if he did not want to startle a wild animal in distress and very gently slid his arms around the tall and slim frame of the Potions Master, holding him into a comforting hug. "Severus, Severus!" he called softly, trying to pull him into the real world. The only reaction he got was an unconscious rejection, as Severus shrugged him away in a nervous and weak motion, refusing any physical contact for now.

Albus let go of him, knowing too well that pushing matters right now would only make things worse, but did not leave the room. Severus would need him soon, and willingly or not; he would be helped and comforted. Albus owed it to him tenfold, considering what he had just asked of Severus. There was however one thing that had to be done, not much but necessary. With a healing spell aimed at the wounded hand, the blood stopped flowing and the cuts vanished instantly. Once that done, Albus took a few steps back, giving Severus his personal space back. For now, he was a calming, protecting and reassuring presence and keeping the distraught man under his compassionate eyes, he would wait for him to make the first move toward him. The man needed to have the illusion that he had still some freedom and control upon his life and his future.

It took nearly ten minutes for it to happen, when a whispering voice flew from Severus and reached Dumbledore. "I can't do that, Albus." came the desperate pleading.

"Oh Severus, you know that if I could find another way, I would not ask it from you. I know how hard it must be for you, to go through this wedding, the pregnancy and the parenthood." Albus said, sincerely sorry and comprehensive.

"Do you?" Severus murmured so softly that Albus barely registered the interruption and went on with the flow of his comforting words.

"But our world needs you. No one else can replace you and my successor is the only hope we have for the future. I'm perfectly aware of the fact that, more than anyone else, you know the meaning of the word sacrifice and duty. But YOU have been chosen for this important and magnificent task. I hate to have to ask it of you, believe me Severus, there is no other way. So it has been written and so it must be." He gently explained, his eyes shining with pity and the love of a father. Those words had to be said and heard, even if they hurt the speaker as well as the listener. They were simply the truth and both of them knew it.

Severus however had resolutely cast his gaze on the floor, refusing to meet Dumbledore's eyes and to let him see his pain, fear and distress. He had to stay strong, to give this illusion as long as possible. He would have time for that later. Theoretically, he knew that what he had heard was painfully true, where his duty was and what honor would lead him to, but doubts kept crawling in his brain.

"But, why me? The "chosen"? Me? Is it a joke from the Fates?" He asked finally after a few minutes of heavy silence. He needed to let out what went on his mind, to at least understand such a nonsense that was forced on him. "I mean, I know that my family is an old pure blood aristocratic line of witches and wizards for millennia past. My father used to repeat it enough for me to know it. Even Voldemort envied it. But me? Chosen for my 'Qualities'? Are you kidding? I'm a Deatheater for God's sake! I'm a slimy spy, a bitter bastard. I realise perfectly how mean and unfair I can be, you know? And I don't care!. And I'm not even that strong. I mean, okay, it's easy to overpower people like the Marauders, or even Flitwick and Minerva, but look at what you are able to do, I could never reach this kind of power! I'm worthless." The last world, murmured in a breath told Dumbledore perfectly all the loathsome thoughts Severus had forged in the deepest parts of his mind about himself.

Under all his pretences and his demands to be respected, he could barely stand himself and what he believed he had become. And this confession, hard and painful to make, reflected exactly his mind. He was thinking about Voldemort and what he had had to accomplish and to live through when he was his personal servant. More than a mere Deatheater, he had been given by his own father when he had been twelve years old to the Dark Lord for him to use as he had wished. There had been a personal link demanded from him by Voldemort that no other had been submitted to. That 'special' position at the Dark Lord's side had been the pride of his family and had assured the young wizard the fear and the respect of all the other Deatheaters. He was after all the 'favourite' of the master, the one Voldemort had wanted to keep for ever at his side. His play thing, that was what he had been. No Malfoy and no Karkaroff could ever dream to gain a trust and a familiarity so deep with the Master. That had been a safety all these years when he had been a spy for Dumbledore, since the first day. But, all those horrible things Voldemort had done to him and had forced him to do. He felt so dirty, so filthy, so disgusting, so guilty... No matter how many good things he had done and how many he would do in the future, he would never feel innocent and proud of himself anymore. Those feelings have been dead for more than twenty years.

Dumbledore, shocked by what he was hearing frowned and clenched his fists at the revoltingly dark portrait Severus was making of himself. What? NO! How could he even think that for one second! After all he had accomplished already, what he was presently doing for the Light! NO! "Don't you dare say that, Severus! Don't even think that! You listen to me, Severus!" He cried out, startling Snape out of his self-deprecating and guilty state of mind. Severus lifted his gaze up to Albus' face, a sad and surprised look in his eyes. That only detail calmed the Headmaster right away. "Oh, my poor child! Don't you know yourself as I know you? You are strong, physically, magically and emotionally, you are extremely clever, you are brave, you are trustworthy, you are one of our most valuable fighter and strategist in this war we fight against Dark Mages. Don't you know that! And all the people you have saved and protected! Don't you remember them?"

Those words, spoken wholeheartedly in a firm but the firmness in his voice had moved Severus into turning his eyes from the old wizard who was praising him so sincerely. He wanted to believe it, to trust Albus, the one person he had always trusted and loved as a son would for a father. But no, how could he be the same person that Dumbledore had described? Denial and self-disgust was still written on his face and his gaze, now once again cast to on the floor spoke of shame.

That was something that Dumbledore could not accept. Not now, not ever. It was time for Severus to put down his unfair burden and to start to live without the guilt, the self-deprecation and all the bitterness and anger that came from it. Maybe the few months ahead would accomplish such a miracle. Who knew? But first, Severus had to agree and the prophecy had to be fulfilled with as less pain and suffering as possible. There was something that was troubling Severus much more than what he had expected in such a trial. Something was wrong. What had been asked of him was very perturbing, no doubt. But to see Severus so perturbed. He had not seen him on the edge of tears and nervous breakdown in two decades. He had expected revolt and anger, but not this distress. If only he knew, he would help him to go through it, whatever it was. But this damned prophecy that had to go on, no matter who it had to hurt on its way. What an awful position that was his as the Protector!

Taking a step forward, Albus gently put his hand on Severus chin and forced him to look at him. "Severus, you have in you all these qualities and so much more. Never doubt that and never doubt my trust and my affection for you! I'm so proud of you! You are all these things and that is the reason why the fates have chosen you for this task. That was not a mistake, believe me!" He reassured the younger wizard, confirming for the last time that there was no possible evasion from what had to take place. "Please, for the good of the Light and the protection of the innocents, please, accept you mission, you duty. You will make such a great gift to the world!" He implored with his warm and soft voice.

Severus had however once more shrugged Dumbledore away. What he had been told during these five last minutes had been a true ray of light in the darkness of his inner world. Someone who trusted him, who admired him? This confession was, for him, such a precious moment. But then a word had beens aid that had triggered old memories and the hurt and betrayal that had been so closely attached to them. His father telling him that he would be his precious "gift" to darkness and to his new master. What was he? A thing, a toy to be exchanged, traded and sold or used? Anger flared up in his whole being and all the pressure he had retained in himself since after lunch, of maybe for all his life, exploded in a gigantic outburst.

"Why do you do this to me?" he screamed at Dumbledore, stepping back against the wall as if he feared that the headmaster would use violence to force him into what he did not want to do. His father's features had come for a minute upon Albus' face and the past once again was being relived before his eyes. "You are like him! Like my father! Using me for your damned politics! I'm not a thing! I'm not a THING!" he accused madly.

The memories he had tried to keep at bay for so long were coming back to him in full force. The reality around him had nearly disappeared to give place to what had been then, and these terrible pictures were threatening to overwhelm him and to drag him down into pits of despair and darkness. Suddenly all the energy fuelling this storm had fled Severus' body and the Potions Masters fell on his knees, continuing to speak his thoughts out loud, in a painful whisper. Not really aware of his surroundings and of Albus' presence at his sides. "He gave me to him, to Voldemort, to be his servant, to be... raped, to be his... whore! And now twenty-three years have passed, and nothing has changed. You are giving me to Potter to be..." His voice died here and Severus fell apart, sobbing uncontrollably on the floor.

Dumbledore had not lost one word of this terrifying confession and stood frozen here for a whole minute, lost in the storm of raging emotions it had caused in him. Had he heard it right? Rape! No! Not to his child! No! Not that! His poor, poor child! The worst crime anyone could commit on a child. Nooooo! Voldemort, that bloody monster! He had known the dark mage was mad and had no morals whatsoever but that. That horrible torture and violation to a child, to his child. Noooo! Albus heart was breaking, sorrow and anger were invading every cell of his body and every corner of his mind. His whole being was crying and screaming his pain and compassion to the world who seemed deaf to it. Hell, he had himself been deaf to the silent suffering of the child he considered his own for so long. For years, God, for decades. He had failed him, betrayed him. What a protector he had been indeed! All these years, all under his eyes, he had seen Severus grow up trough all this, he had seen the wariness in the eyes, the growing bitterness, the reluctance to be touched, the rare socialization, the lack of any romantic interest, the hardness and pain on the face, the desperate efforts to keep the mask in place. All these signs and he had never put two and two together! At times, Severus had come to him and let him comfort him, but he had never explained and confided in Albus about that. And Albus, nave as he had been, had never understood, had never seen the truth, had always assumed that it was the guilt to be a Deatheater, maybe some Cruciatus curses. Never that. And all this time, he had accepted the child's help, encouraged it even, let it happen again and again. God, he had been the monster's accomplice. An overwhelming wave of guilt and shame engulfed the old wizard.

But Severus, his child, needed him right now and Albus did not wait one second before kneeling in front of Severus and taking him in his arms, holding him in a warm and fierce hug, cradling him back and forth, back and forth to comfort him as he would do with a six years old boy. Severus, overwhelmed by his memories, welcomed this human warmth and affection eagerly. He buried his face against Albus shoulder and let go of all the pain and frustration he had kept inside since he was a child. Everything had frozen in Albus' mind and his heart was bleeding on profusely for the child before him. The child who had come to him one day, a first year who had cried in his arms for all the hard treatments his father was putting him through, to 'educate' him. The second year who had been forced to become a Deatheater and Voldemort's personal servant and had come to be comforted and propose his help to the light. And all this time. And now, the little terrified and hurt child was once more in his arms, needing desperately some warmth, and later, to free his mind, heart and soul from the burden of his horrible past.

Albus had always felt compelled to protect Severus, this child who had been so sweet and good-hearted, even with the life he had to suffer through, this pure soul never tainted, but attacked so many times. And this resolve was reaching the highest peaks he had ever known. Severus had been hurt too many times in his life, too deeply, he had too many scars needing to heal. And now, this destiny that had to be fulfilled and accomplished was threatening to add some more pain to it. No wonder that Severus had reacted so strongly to the revelation of his destiny and his arranged wedding tomorrow. In the deepest part of his mind, where the child still lived in the man, Severus was making the parallel between it and the bargain his father had made with Voldemort, giving his son to be raped. Violated and badly hurt. That was what the child in him feared, no doubt.

But this time, it would not be like that. Albus would not allow it. His child had suffered enough and it was in his power to prevent it. Albus knew that Harry was meant for Severus.

They would be happy together, that was for sure. The Fates had chosen them for that, partly anyway. But the first steps of the relationship would be the harder for Severus. Albus would have to talk to Harry, to explain a few things to him, to tell him to be understanding and gentle. Severus would not be hurt again, not in this case anyway, that was a promise.

But for now, he had to reassure and comfort a poor and lost soul, to reassure Severus that he was not alone, that he had someone there looking after him and helping him in his personal hell, someone willing to be there for him. "Sshh, child. Let go. Don't be afraid. I'm here for you now. I'll protect you. No one will hurt you. You don't have to keep it inside anymore. Yes, that's it, child, let go. Oh, I'm so sorry, Severus. But I'm here. I'll always be here for you! I swear. I'll do anything to prevent you from suffering. I promise. Let go, my child. Ssshh. That's it... I'm here, child... Sshh.."

Albus' hand stroking gently his hair and his deep voice whispering _soft reassurances in his ear finally reached Severus in his darkness and inner self inflicted torture. He trusted Albus completely and willed himself slowly to believe what the headmaster was telling him in a so loving tone. The memories slowly fade away and let the hurt man free from their poisonous grip. It finally helped Severus to regain his calm, to find his courage, honor and sense of duty back, to use his logical mind to reach the decision he knew he had to take. He had to fight to let the words out of his mouth and to force himself to agree to what he still saw as his renewed doom._

"I'll do it, Albus. I'll do it for you. Only for you." Severus finally said, when he had finally found his voice. He then disentangled himself from Albus embrace, stood up and turned his back to him. "Can you please leave me alone? I have to think. Please" he finally begged, needing time and calm to cope and finally accept emotionally what he had agreed to do.

Dumbledore's heart still hurt from the revelation he had just heard and the realisation he had come to about all the suffering Severus had gone through secretly. He did not really want to leave his child alone, not after that, not in the state of emotional distress he was in, but knew he had no other choice. Severus needed it, he did not want to be seen in this state he considered a weakness. He had to calm and to steal himself in order to finally come to term to what was happening to him. It would not help him if Severus felt crowded. "Of course. I'll leave you alone, Severus. I'll come back to see you tonight for the spell." came the soft answer from Albus who nodded and turned to leave, only stopping at the door to once again voice his sincere and grateful feelings "Thank you Severus! Thank you so much" With that, a single tear running down his cheek, he walked away, toward his own office where Harry was waiting for him.

Part 6. Harry's reaction.

It seemed to Albus Dumbledore, as he was climbing the stairs to his office, leaving Severus Snape alone to think and calm down, that he had gotten ten years older in those minutes he had been with his child.

Frowning deeply, the little twinkle lacking in his eyes, worry and sorrow still written on his face, Albus looked everyone of his 149 years. Life had such a talent to be unfair to its most beautiful beings. But it could not be changed and the prophecy had to be fulfilled. His child would have to go through so much more in the years that would come.

And nothing could be done about that. Well, nothing was too definitive a word. One factor could change so much: Harry Potter. His part in Severus' future was essential and central. Their destinies were linked, or would be in less than 24 hours, when they would get married and bonded.

Harry had the power to make things a lot easier for Severus. He could choose to care enough to be gentle and not to hurt his spouse, even if only for the wedding night. Harry was goodhearted, compassionate and generous. He would surely understand if he were explained a few things about his husband-to-be. That was their only hope for happiness after all. Maybe they could not see it, but the way they would act toward each other would be the key of their future, the only way to soothe their pains and to prevent them. He would talk to him.

Headmaster Dumbledore walked in his office where Harry had not moved an inch since he had left him, at least one hour before. Harry had been too much preoccupied to even want to do anything but try find reason and order in all this chaos that his life had become on this sunny saturday. Features tense, eyebrows frowned and eyes narrowly fixed on the desktop just in front of him, Harry was the image of a boy in turmoil and restrained furor, tainted by nervousness and a little fear.

He felt oppressed, a prisoner of the Fates, their toy, nothing more. He had gone through anger for a little while, but there was little to be gained by anger... That was not what would help him. All that was left was a mix of despair, disgust, wistful hopes and a sense of duty and honor that was suffocating him.

After all, he perfectly knew what it was to be special, to be fated to be someone, to do something, to have a mission. Hell ! He had been just a little over one year old when he had been taught his first lesson by the Fates. The Boy Who Lived indeed! How he hated these four words that defined him to the entire wizarding world! Had he asked to be popular ? No, all he had wanted was to have his parents and to grow a normal wizard boy, cherished and loved. But no... that would not happen, he would not be given this right and this happiness. His mission, fate and duty had forbiden it... because he was the Famous Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. Oh ! Snape was so right to despise and ridicule this title. That was the sure sign of his destiny, his dire destiny. the constant target of Voldemort. nothing more. And this revelation, the new 'mission' he had received an hour ago was sure to disturb him to the core of his soul, add to his inner turmoil and confirm that he had been doomed by the Fates. They sure did not like him at all !

Harry Potter, `The Boy Who Lived'. How he hated these four words that defined him to the entire wizarding world! All he had ever wanted was to have his parents and grow up a normal boy, cherished and loved. But fate and duty had forbidden any chance at freedom, at happiness. Snape was so right to despise and ridicule his fame. And now this new mission had virtually doomed any chance he'd had of choosing his own destiny.

Married ? But he was only 16, for Godsake ! He was far too young to get into it ! He had not even decided what he wanted in life, apart from staying alive of course, him being the main target of a powerful dark mage and his army and all... Hell, he wanted so much live as a normal student wizard.. He wanted to do what every teenager did at his age. Play Quidditch like a mad hero, enjoy a trip to Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione, venture in the tunnels and corridors at night with his invisibility coat and his marauder's map, . eat sweets and play pranks on Slytherins who deserved them. Be irresponsible even, when he wanted to be. But no ! He was the Boy Who Lived ! Of course he could not have that. And now, what was it again they wanted him to go through ? Wedding and fatherhood ? Nooo ! He wanted his freedom back.

Have you heard that ? Wedding and Fatherhood, damn it ! He did not want to get married, even if he had been deeply in love with anyone, and such was not the case. TOO YOUNG DAMN IT ! He had a life to live before that ! No, responsibilities and chains, that was what was offered to him... and he could not refuse. He wanted to say no and to run as far away as possible from this world that had hurt him and did not seem to want to stop ruining his life ! He had never wanted anything more than that... except maybe to know his parents and to see Voldemort dead. That was HIS life, hell ! And they had decided it all for him ! That was so unfair, so... damn it !

And of course he had no choice in the matter. That was clear, that was it or the end of any hope to defeat the Dark Lord and its armies, the hope for the next century and a half ! No, not much indeed ! Such a burden, such a responsibility befallen onto him, as always. And no choice but to carry it and to go on.

But hell ! Wedding ? Baby ? . and making the baby. he had not yet thought about this part of the ordeal. Oh joy ! He had never done that before ! Okay, he had had a few ideas about that, you know, 16 years old, hormones and sex. But he had never done it. He had had noone to do it with, after all. Oh yeah, he had quite a fan club, but that was not what he wanted. adoration for the legend, and nothing for himself. no thanks. And his life, the tension of last year, the constant danger he felt he lived with. that did not help at all. He was not really a romantic person, but he had hoped that maybe he would find someone to love, a companionship and tenderness, maybe something to forget the harsh reality of his family and his fate. But no ! That was too much to ask, of course ! Now he was stuck for life with someone in this arranged wedding. He had hoped it to be about desire, pleasure, passion and feelings, and it would be all about duty and responsibility. What an aphrodisiac, indeed !

That was not even the problem. Of course he was nervous about that night. He did not really know how it would be like. He did not even really know how to proceed. That was not as if he had even considered it before. And with a man ! He had no prejudice against homosexual relationships. If he was honest, he would even have to admit that his eyes could be caught by a handsome boy as easily as by a pretty girl. Even more so, maybe. No one in particular, mind you, but the idea had never really revolted him.

But the real problem, if you accept all that, was the other spouse. Professor Severus Snape. Hell, he could not stand the man, and the Potions Master hated him. What a happy wedding it would make indeed ! Well sarcasm would not make things better. Indeed, nothing could make things better right now. The facts were here and not to be changed. Disgust and revolt were creeping silently into his mind to settle firmly in Harry's brain. Snape indeed ? And why not Dudley when they were at it ?. Well, if he had to be fair, he would prefer even Snape to Dudley. At least, the mean teacher had never beaten him up but accepted him as a person and as a wizard. Okay, Snape did not like him at all and did not miss one occasion to show it but he had also saved his life time after time. That had to mean something,didn't it? But that was certainly not enough to be a good sign for the future. It only meant that the choice could have been a little bit worse. not much, but a little bit anyway.

Snape. Snape, damn it ! That was the monster, the Death Eater, the bitter and cold Potions Masters that had terrorised him for years. What could he expect from him in this predicament ? That was the question that was haunting Harry's mind the most. He had no idea of what would happen but had the strong impression that the next days would not be the best he would ever live. Far from it indeed.

Snape no doubt would be as mean as ever. He would even get angry and maybe violent. No gentleness and understanding from him, for sure. No companionship and no delicate attentions neither. Who knew what Snape was able and willing to do to him. Fear was indeed creeping into Harry's mind and was gripping his heart in a an iron hand.

Harry could only hope that maybe Snape would refuse this wedding and that would save both of them from this embarrassing and painful situation. His last hope in fact. Thinking about it, that would be the perfect solution. He wouldn't be blamed for that at least and would not have to go through that. Well, of course, there was always the prophecy and this thing about saving the world. Oh damn, he would really have to go through that ! For tomorrow night at least, and hopefully it would be the end of it. After all he would not be needed after that, would he? And Snape would not want him near him anyway. Just one night. but what a night.

His thoughts were interrupted by Dumbledore's return, or more precisely by the insistent voice and the hand of the Headmaster shaking him into awareness. "Harry ! Harry, do you hear me ! Harry, my boy !"

Finally, Harry's eyes focused on Dumbledore's face just in front of him "Professor Dumbledore ?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, Harry, it's me." He softly answered,worriedly watching the teenager. With a little twist of his wand, he summoned a cup of hot chocolate for the distressed boy in front of him. "Here, Harry. I think that you need it right now."

"Thank you sir !" Harry gratefully accepted the hot beverage and started sipping it, trying to hide the light shaking of his hands as he did it. Of course, he knew that Dumbledore would see right trough this vain attempt, but that did not really matter. Brave, proud, wasn't it the way of the Gryffindors ?

As Harry had feared, Albus was not fooled at all by this display. He had seen fear, some small hints of anger, a lot of nervousness and of denial traveling on the young's face while he drank his chocolate, his attention once again turned toward the chaos of his thoughts. Albus had to find words to comfort him, to reassure him that his life would not end the next day. But what to say ? The boy obviously was not pleased of his fate and even dreaded it. There was certainly something encouraging to say. What do noble fathers say to their children when they have to give them away in an arranged wedding made to strengthen the power of their family when they really care about them ?

Hesitation and reflection from both of them were translated in the Headmaster 's office by a few minutes of uneasy silence. The tension had to be broken and the real matter discussed. The truth, or maybe part of it only, would have to come out if Dumbledore wanted for Harry to understand some aspects of his wedding and his husband to be. That could determine the future and the potential happiness of both his children. And of course, Albus could not really expect Severus to reveal anything about himself to Harry. It would give too much power to the teenager upon his life, his soul and his sanity. Severus would want to protect his privacy to any cost and therefore, would never let Harry in and the boy would never be willing to come closer to his husband, which only meant dire consequences. Albus would have to take the matters in hands then.

"Harry, my dear boy," he started gently, lightly squeezing Harry's hand, "Listen to me please." He then waited for one second and went on when Harry nodded. "I know that the news you have received today is really hard to accept. This wedding, this destiny that is forced on you, as a way to speak, must be devastating for you. You think that you are too young, that your life is wasted by this prophecy, that it can not work and that you are doomed, am I right ?" He asked.

"Well. yes, that sums it up, I guess." Harry reluctantly answered, a little nervous to be read so easily by the Headmaster he had not wanted to disappoint by his doubts.

"I. I know that this is important for the wizarding world and all that. I do know that. but why must it be me? Have I not done enough for our cause yet? I lost my parents, I am a permanent target for every evil mages, I did not want to be the famous boy who lived, you know," he started again, and then made a pause, his face frozen, as if he had seen that his argument was not really good enough and straightforward to reach the headmaster and make him see reason. He would have to use something much more sensible. Something other than the fact that he did not want to be married and absolutely not with Snape. Something that would make Dumbledore think twice about this decision.

"No, that's not even that. Okay, it's true that I'd like to be free of all that for once, of this special destiny, and this prophecy. But the point is that I'm only a student. A teenager. Just a boy, for Godsake. And you want me to be a father ? Are the Fates gone nuts ? I barely can take care of myself and I would have to be responsible enough to take care and protect a baby ? I'm absolutely unable to do that, you must see it, Professor !"

The amount of sheer disbelief in his voice and the despair of the questions were perfectly translating Harry's most reasonable doubts to the Headmaster. However, Albus had not the same opinion as Harry about his potential, strengths and qualities. He could feel that the problem was not really here, but he had to make his point very clear about that particular problem.

"Harry, I know that you are only 16 years old and that you will be 17 when the baby will be born. You think that you are not yet an adult and that you are not competent to be a father. But you are wrong and if you look into your soul, you'll know it as perfectly as I do. You have gone through a lot of harsh experiences throughout your whole life, fought and defeated so many threats. It matured you a lot. You don't see the world through the eyes of a child. And you are brave and you have such a good heart and that is the only thing that can be asked from you in order to love and protect your family. Because that is what you will have. A family. We do not ask you to do it on your own. You must know that you will never be alone through that. We don't ask you to be perfect, only to do as best as you can."

This speech had gone through the first barriers of the teenager's mind, luring him toward what he had always yearned for, a family, people to love and to protect, people who would love him and protect him. Yes, that would be the result of that prophecy, after all. A Family... But still. this wedding would be a prison for him, he did not have the time to live that he was already locked. "But headmaster. maybe I'm able to do what you say. but, I don't want to be married. I love to be a student here at Hogwarts. I don't want my life to change." Harry found himself whining finally.

Albus could not stay unmoved by this cry from the deep of the heart. Pity and deep understanding were easily read on his old features and his eyes were shining with compassion. He had always known that it was one of the two real reasons Harry was angry and unhappy with his destiny. His freedom. His normalcy, or lack of anyway. The way his normal life had a tendency to get less and less normal, to include elements he feared and rejected, like the eternal threats from Voldemort, his celebrity, on another level, and of course, now, his incoming wedding. The other reason being the choice of the spouse, Severus Snape, that was sure to disgust or at the very least frighten and get the boy nervous. But as Harry had not yet talked about this point, there was no reason to add it to the tension of the discussion right now. It would have to be dealt with, but later.

"Harry, I understand only too well that you don't want to feel locked inside a firm and permanent relationship at such a young age, especially a relationship that you don't want. I'm absolutely sorry about that, you must believe me. But you must know that, your wedding will be here and will never be anulled, but your day to day life will not have to be changed so much." Albus started to explain before being interrupted.

"You mean I won't have to live with him and to leave Hogwarts ?" Harry asked hopefully.

"No ! Not the first year anyway, and probably not for the two years you have left here at Hogwarts. If only for secrecy sake, your life will have to look the same as if this whole situation does not even exist. You will continue your studies here, you will still be with your friends, you will still live in the Gryffindor's tower. You see, nothing from your day to day life will change at first." Dumbledore answered gently but honestly. He would not promise something he could not be sure. And anyway, he hoped that the two of them would grow closer and finally be willing to live and act as a married couple, and as a family.

He had chosen the good thing to say as Harry seemed to relax a little bit, not much yet, but at least, he had stopped shaking so badly. His future was not so dark after all. Maybe he would live as if nothing had happened, and maybe he would even forget that anything would ever happen. Pretend he would not be a husband, a father-to-be. For a few months at least. And maybe Snape would not want him to be here at all. The Potions Master hated him after all and would not be willing to be bothered by him. had almost forgotten about that part of his destiny. Severus Snape, Vampire Snape.

"But sir, Snape ? He hates me and I'll be very lucky if he doesn't kill me before long. I mean, he never treated me like he could bear my presence anywhere near him. We fight at every opportunity! He is unfair, uncaring, harsh, mean, bitter. He could be violent and sadist for all I know? Hell ! he was a Death eater after all, and maybe he is still one of them. I know, I have seen his mark. There is a reason for that, don't you think?" With every word said, his voice became louder and steadier and his tone angry and yet frightened to the core. With the last sentence, he stood up and began pacing the office nervously.

It was easy to read behind it the strong feeling of dislike that had build into Harry's heart toward his Potions Master, and the terror he had to be left into the man'hands, the very one he had come to think to be a real monster for the last five years. The prejudice Dumbledore could discern into this outburst would not be easily shattered and to replace with the truth he was maybe the only one to know about his child. That would be really difficult indeed, the old wizard thought, sighing deeply.

"Harry, will you please sit down and calm yourself." He demanded gently.

Harry stopped in his steps and gazed directly at Dumbledore's eyes, weariness clearly written on his face. But then, as if suddenly this respect and affection for the old wizard, he smiled apologetically if nervously for three seconds and went back to sit in front of the Headmaster.

A few moments later, when he was sure of his attention, Dumbledore started once again. "I know that it will be difficult for you to believe me, but trust me when I say that the picture you have of Severus Snape is merely a mask he wears, and not his true self."

A strangled gasp of utter disbelief and suspicion interrupted him. "No way ! A mask ? No way ! In five years I have suffered in his classes, he has always been this way. No one can wear a mask like that, be this perfect an actor and never slip. No way, I'm telling you! The man is just a."He started quite loudly.

"HARRY ! Listen to me for a few minutes, will you!" Dumbledore admonished him calmly. "The professor Snape you know, so unfair with you and the Gryffindor, who favours so much the Slytherins and hides the Dark Mark on his forearm is merely the character he must show to people in order to stay alive. You know that he was a Deatheater in the past. That has not changed. But what you don't know is that he has always been my spy among them. If he does not want to be discovered, tortured and killed, either by his fellows deatheaters or by Voldemort himself, he has to let them believe he is one of them, to act as it is expected of him. Do you understand ?"

"Your spy ? But. you mean that all this time he was pretending to hate me. when in fact he was protecting the Light, and Hogwarts. and .me ?" Harry ventured finally, a few moments later, surprised beyond measure, and finally seeing a glimpse of what was hidden behind the veil of false appearances that had been fooling him and all the students for years. Reviewing some of his memories under this new light, he finally understood the game Snape had played with his own life.

See the example with Quirell. Snape had been such a good actor in his personification of the mean and bad and unfair teacher that they had always thought that it was him Voldemort's servant, not the benign DADA teacher. Snape had always been in the shadows and operated masterfully. Never reclaiming the glory he had deserved. Yes, Harry could see that right now. A new respect was born unconsciously in his heart for the man. this. yes. this hero. It would only take time for Harry to accept it as the reality. One thing was sure however: there was definitely more to Snape than the mean and bitter teacher. But the question was : to what extents the mask was the mask and had not become the truth ? And was it really the truth. or one more deceiving picture.

"Yes Harry. That's exactly what happened during all these years. Severus has been a spy for more than twenty years now. And he is very good at that. If he does not want people to know what's behind the mask, they will never know, trust me." Dumbledore added.

Harry had however a few doubts left about all that. The image of his wicked teacher did not really match with the portrait Dumbledore was painting of a brave and smart spy, their ally, their protector. Years of dislike and mutual loathing were indeed difficult to overcome suddenly. "How do I know that ? For all I know, he is also an agent for Voldemort and is only waiting for a good occasion to kill me or at least to betray us all !" He finally uttered defiantly.

"Oh no, Harry, no !" Albus exclaimed sincerely and enthusiastically. " You simply do not know him as well as I do. He is a very secret person. I think that I am the one who know him the best and yet, there are so many things that I can only guess. But one thing is sure: I trust him completely with my life, and the students' lives as well. I see him as my son. That's as simple as that."

After this heartfelt admission, which surprised Harry deeply, Albus turned his gaze once more upon the young wizard, as if studying him and asking himself a question. How much could he tell him about Severus, and more importantly, should he take the liberty to disclose what only him knew about his child ? After a few seconds of hesitation, he finally reached his decision and went on talking.

"Harry, normally, I would not give away secrets about people if they did not want me to but in this case, I'm afraid it is absolutely necessary that you learn a bit more about the real Severus and how he became the man you will have to marry tomorrow. For both your sakes and in the hope that the truth will ease the present situation for both of you, let me tell you Severus' history." Dumbledore then made a little pause, waiting for Harry to give his consent to this revelation.

The young wizard seemed a little startled by that. Snape had been a deatheater and had then turned to the other side to help Dumbledore if what the headmaster had said was true. What else could there be other than that? Wasn't it enough information yet ? He had always been absolutely sure that the Headmaster was trustworthy and would never willingly lie to him. And there was no doubt either about the old wizard's sanity and ability to read people's soul. Of course, even if he still had some shadows of doubts, pertaining to his past experience with the Potions Master, his curiosity was raising up rapidly washing away any hesitation he could have had about it. A part of his mind was after all constantly telling him that he had a right to know where he was going into and with who. He nodded slowly, urging the headmaster to go on with his husband-to-be's life story.

Dumbledore then buried himself in the past and started to tell bits and pieces of Severus' history with a faraway look, his voice almost breaking at times and a giant veil of sadness, anger and regret spread on his face.

"Severus, you see, is from one of the most old and powerful family of wizards. The highest aristocracy among our society. And all of them Slytherins and ambitious dark mages by tradition. There was no love lost there, let me assure you. Children were there to be used to increase the power, the wealth and the prestige of the Snape Clan thanks to weddings, dark deals or alliances. Severus in an only child. His mother, a young sweet lady, Elisa Carion Snape, died when he was four, leaving him with his father, Sulpicius Snape, the most cold and uncaring father that I have ever seen in my life. And that's an understatement, believe me. From this age till he came to Hogwart, when he was ten, he was raised into the Dark Arts, learning the unforgivable curses at seven and already knowing a myriad of poisonous potions at eight.

"When he arrived at Hogwarts, he had already the potential to be one of the more dangerous dark mages himself. But he had still a pure heart and despised all his father had tried to feed him for years. You see, if he had been taught all that by a loving parent, instead of this loathful and very violent excuse of a father, he would have become just that, the perfect Death Eater.

"Instead, the last night, at the end of his first year, he came to me. He was quite nervous, still hesitating about what he could confide or not. I think that he had been watching me for quite some time then, wondering if he could trust me, if I would help him and be able and willing to give him the affection and reassurance he craved. Satisfied that I would at least listen to him and take him seriously, he went to me, as I was saying. I tried to make him open up to me, gain his trust, comfort him as he was still hesitating.

"And somehow, all this attention and this display of warmth focused on him was somehow overwhelming for the poor boy. His shields shattered and he began to fall apart and to beg me not to let him go back to his father for the summer vacations. But he would not give me any explanation, nor incriminate his father in anyway. He then started to cry and flung himself in my arms for comfort. In this situation, I could not do anything. Severus was just a child and I had no right to overcome his father's authority upon Severus without any proof of abuse of any kind. Believe me, I really tried to make him trust me enough to talk to me about that. God, I tried. But Severus was so afraid of displeasing his father and of dishonouring his clan that he kept silent, only able to cry in my arms and to accept the comfort and love I had to give him. Finally he fell asleep, his he buried against my shoulder and I held him for hours before tucking him back in his dormitory.

"And the next day, I let him go back to his father, unable to do anything legally. That was my biggest mistake, the one I will always regret. The first night of term, on his second year, he came to my office. I was taken aback by his mere appearance. You see, Severus had always been a thin but healthy little boy. But on that night, he had changed, and not for the better. He had become deathly pale. His body, now skinny, seemed extremely fragile. And the worse, maybe, was his eyes. They had lost their fire, their hope and were now windows to a very angsty and terrified, as well as hurt soul.

"Without uttering a word, his eyes downcast, shame and despair written all over his features, he rolled up his sleeve and showed me his forearm. What I saw there shocked me deeply by its mere horror: the Death Eater's mark was carved into his child skin. On that moment I felt so guilty and so utterly sad about what had happened to Severus that I think I took a step back from him. He must have read rejection in this act where there was only compassion and an overwhelming pain to see the horror I knew the child had gone through during the summer, and all by my fault, because I had done nothing to help him. What a protector I had been for him ! Anyway, Severus had come to me, not to drown me in my guilt, but to seek some comfort and love where instinctively he knew he could find it anytime he would need it. And when he saw my reaction, I nearly lost him. Fortunately I was quicker that him to the door and swept him in my arms. He finally let it go and let me comfort him through the night.

Between sobs and tears, I had managed to make him explain to me the situation. His father, as it seems, had already planned his whole future years ago. You see, Sulpicius Snape was an ambitious dark mage, and he had made an alliance with Voldemort in order to obtain even more power and control over the Dark Arts. He had sold his only son, his eleven and a half years old son to the Dark Lord for that. On the first day of Severus' summer vacation, he had been given to Voldemort to become his personal servant, his apprentice, his experiment, the victim of his tortures and violences and a lot more I can't even imagine. On that fatefull day, he had become the youngest deatheater. As if it had not been enough, Voldemort built between him and his new and so precious slave child a link that permitted him to call him whenever he wanted and to kill him instantly if he ever wished to do had made him very special among the Dark Lord's servants. I had to guess most of that as Severus was very reluctant to make these particular memories come back to the surface of his mind.

"I tried to protect him from this dire situation that had been forced upon him, but I could do nothing. He was a full Deatheater, of the inner circle, the closest to Voldemort, after all. Had I involved the justice or the Ministry, they would have sent Severus to Azkhaban directly. His knowledge of the most dangerous curses and potions of the Dark Arts were proof enough for those narrowminded wizards from the Ministry, believe me. Their policic was kill first and ask then, no compassion for the Deatheaters. And I could not had kidnapp Severus away from his legal guardian and let him stay constantly with me at Hogwarts. The link Voldemort had settled would have been used and the monster would have killed Severus at the first clue of desertion or betrayal. At least, the night when you nearly killed Voldemort fifteen years ago, this particular deadly link was definitely broken. But back then, that was an impossible situation.

"At least, for some reason, Voldemort never demanded that Severus was pulled away from school. I still can't understand why. Maybe he wanted to keep the illusion, for Severus, his perfect apprentice and servant, to have a legal cover, if ever he wanted to use him as a spy or a special agent. I don't know. At least, Severus could still secretly come to me and go on living. If he had not this emotional and physical refuge here, in this school and with me, I think he would have welcomed death really soon.

"Of course, Voldemort would call him often at night, and Severus had no choice but to come to his master. He would be back at dawn, battered and hurt more than once. And all his vacations also. The poor child would then come to me to be healed and held, to try to forget his ordeal. He would never tell me exactly what had happened but I could see all his pain in his eyes and it tore at my heart. I could see him locking himself inside his emotional shield, away from the others students who could not know of his dire situation and therefore understand him or accept him. In order to protect himself, he wore this mask of bitterness and anger to the world, except for me.. and maybe for you, Harry, one day, if you can earn his trust and love.I hope.

"Anyway, soon after the beginning of his second year, Severus started on his own will to give me information about Voldemort, his Deatheaters and their activities. That was quite dangerous but the material he came to me with was priceless and permitted us not to lose the war. His courage and his deviousness, that he had to develop in order to survive, saved a lot of people through the years. And Voldemort was so sure he had broken Severus and attached him to his eternal service, that he never ever suspected him.

"It was obvious however, even if Severus never told me so, that Voldemort had taken a very special interest into the boy. His bloodline, his power, his extreme youth were very appealing to this monster. He tried to tame him, to brainwash Severus. And he nearly succeeded with all the suffering the boy had to go through. But in the end, he made the exact same mistake as Severus' father had made. The boy would have gratefully and wholeheartedly bowed to anyone who would have shown him a little gentleness and affection. But Voldemort only knew possessiveness, violence, anger and loathing. He never gained the heart of the boy, only his hate and fear.

"Severus was craving the love and affection I could provide him. On this second night, my heart had already decided: I loved this child, this martyr, as if he was my own son. And I think that instinctively, his need for warmth and emotional comfort and protection that had driven him to me a few months ago had become the exact counterpart of my own feelings. I had become the father he had prayed to have. Someone who would be there for him, whatever would happen, and someone who would show him more than coldness and dark ambition. Since then, our relationship has not change in nature. Our link and mutual affection and respect have only increased through the trials of life and the difficulties of the war. I wouldn't care more about him if he was my own blood.

"As you can see, he is strong, really. He had to be to survive mentally and physically. But underneath it, there are still deep and angry scars that seem to have forbidden him to experience any true chance at happiness. Oh, he can perfectly defend himself, fight earnestly for himself, scare the hell out of his fellow teachers, the students and even his enemies, but deep down, somewhere behind this mask of strength there is this lost and crying child terrified by what life has to offer to him, bad and good, and who seeks desperately to stay hidden forever and to find some love and comfort. This part of his character is something that he will try to protect at any cost. He has suffered much in his life and this is merely his way to build shields between himself and what is a threat to his sanity. He can stand a lot of injuries, torture and unfair treatments, and that won't affect him at all except physically. That can anger him, maybe. But that kind of things that could destroy any wizard or witch would leave him unharmed in his inner being.

"The only way he can be wounded and emotionally killed is through human relationships, feelings and betrayals. He has been deceived too many times in his life, since his youngest age. And he can't bear to live through that once more. That's why he makes such a good job at rejecting and pushing away people around him. That's the only way he can be sure that he won't be hurt emotionally by them.

"I think the only friend Severus has right now, and maybe he has ever had, is me and I'm more of a father figure to him than anything else. He trusts me because in his eyes, I never let him down and was always here for him, whenever he needed one litle piece of comfort and understanding. And yet, there is still so much he won't let me see, let me soothe in him.

"I believe that more often than not, he hates himself and the amount of selfloathing stored inside him must be astronomically great. He sees himself as a monster, a tainted and corrupted soul, no better than any other evildoer, than any other Deatheater. That's why he can stand so easily hatred from others. He does not like it. Actually, he is craving for love and warmth instead of it. But he thinks that he deserves it all. Even with me, at times, he accepts my gestures of affection only for short moments before one part of himself start telling him that he can't accept that. That it is unfair for me to care for someone like him, to have to suffer his mere presence. The poor child. If only he realised how precious and beautiful he is indeed."

At that moment, Dumbledore made a pause in his portrait of his beloved child. He seemed literally exhausted, just as if all his energy had been drained by this revelation so intimate of his deepest feeling toward Severus, and most of all, of his guilt and worries. That was what came with the truest fatherly love. One lonely tear was running down his cheek, precious proof of his concern and deepest affection. He had kept all that to himself for a little more than two decades now. And the burden of his pain was unbearable at times. He so wanted to alleviate his child's hurt and suffering, make the world better for him, make his life something he could enjoy and not an ever going on torture. Maybe now he had found an ally in this noble task. Maybe Harry could understand and try to reach the man who would soon become his husband, the one whose soul and mind would be soon linked with his. Maybe.

Harry drank avidly every word spoken by Dumbledore. This story was fascinating by its sadness and its despairing and on going tragedy. But the terrible feeling that was freezing the 6th year student on the spot in his horrified and deeply surprised state of mind was the fact that this was his mean and unfair teacher's life. No, his husband-to-be's life. He had wanted to hate the man, as he had done for five years now. He had really tried to keep this feeling in his heart. But as the story went on, showing one more torture, one more abuse, one more betrayal, one more courageous fight of the child against the fate that seemed to promise the destruction of his soul, one more victory of this child, of this teenager, of this man, all his hatred and disgust disappeared, replaced by a new found respect and admiration mixed with the sincerest compassion, a deep pity for Severus and finally an overwhelming anger aimed at all those abuser who had destroyed such a promising existence. It was no longer the Snape, the vampire, it was Severus, the child, Severus the brave spy, Severus the man behind the mask, Severus, his husband to be. A great desire to help comfort and rebuild this incredible person had found its roots inside Harry's unconscious, still hidden from him, insecure and fragile, but growing steadily.

"Oh dear God ! Poor Severus ! I didn't know. I would have never guessed he had lived through that." He exclaimed passionately and sincerely.

"I know, Harry. I know." Dumbledore whispered with a deep sigh, before refocusing his attention on what he still needed to say. "Listen Harry," he went on with a steadier and more serious voice, "I know that deep inside you, you have already agreed to fulfill this prophecy and to follow your destiny. in a few words, to marry Severus and to conceive a child with him tomorrow" his voice trailed off then as if to ask the confirmation of this affirmation. When Harry calmly but determinedly nodded, Dumbledore spoke again.

"I know that it is not and won't be easy for you. I'm sincerely sorry about that. And let me assure you once again that I understand your position very well and will always be there for you if you need to speak or anything else. But I must be there too for Severus.

"I don't want to force anything upon you. You are free, you know that" once again, he made a pause and waited for Harry to nod to continue. "If you don't want anything to do with Severus after tomorrow night, I won't force you into anything. But should a true and sincere relationship form and develop between both of you, it could be his redemption and his chance at happiness. It would be very delicate and even difficult. Severus would be walking for a long time on the edge of emotional destruction. If I know him well, he will always be hesitating between two roads : the first, the easiest, would be to remain behind his shield and to make sure he won't suffer by not letting you any chance to come close enough emotionally; the second would be what his heart want the most, to feel loved, cherished, understood and cared for. And any mistake could determine a fast end to either of this roads, but more easily the second. But should it succeed, you would be both happy together and you would fill my old heart of such a joy !" He concluded finally, waiting for a reaction, an hint of a decision from Harry. Lights of hope were already shining in his eyes, hunting down slowly the shadows of despair that had settled in the old wizard soul a few moments before.

Harry however was still unsure. He had to accept too much information at the same time. So much was expected from him. The idea of a family, of love, comfort, warmth, understanding and happiness was really appealing to him. He had craved it all his life too. And his good heart and compassionate soul were there to tell him that he was maybe Severus' only hope for a better future. Could he really decide to damn this man who had suffered so much and had already saved his life times after times without asking for anything? And after all, he would have responsibilities toward his husband and his child. His honor and sense of duty could not let him abandon them like that. But engaging his whole future like that, in this difficult if not impossible task ? That was kind of hazardous to promise anything right now when the odds were so unsure. He could honestly not be sure of his own answer and desire right now. All his fears were not dead yet. He would have to take it day after day. No other way. And maybe he would make it work. If Severus would let him. Dear God, how he had changed in a few hours..

"I'll be honest with you, Professor. I can't promise you anything right now. But I'll try. And should I decide to pursue this relationship and develop it, I won't press him beyond his limits and follow your advice, sir." Harry finally honestly and wisely answered.

"Thank you, Harry. I could not ask you for anything more. It gives me such hope already." Dumbledore said, smiling gratefuly to his young student. But quickly another preoccupation came back shadowing Albus face once more. "One last thing however. I know that you are really disturbed and very exhausted right now ant that you need more time to think about things. But there is one last concern I have to share with you about the events that will take place tomorrow. It will only take two minutes of your time, but please, listen to me carefuly and try to stay openminded."

"Of course, sir" Harry hurried to answer. Maybe he would finally get a few answers himself and get a little less anxious. "I'm myself a little nervous about the proceedings of the. wedding and the binding and. you know." he confessed, getting redder and redder as he was speaking.

"Oh. Oh, yes ! O course ! well it will take place tomorrow evening, at 8PM in Severus private quarters. I'll marry you myself and then perform the binding spell. You won't have to do anything but say yes and hold his hand and finally put the wedding ring on his finger while he will do the same with you. After that.I'll leave you to consummate your union and conceive your baby who will be carried by Severus."

Then he took a pause to observe Harry who had gotten even redder, if it was possible. His embarassment seemed endless and his eyes downcast wouldn't meet the Headmaster's gaze. "But sir, I've never." his voice trailed off once again.

A light of understanding shone on the puzzled face of the old wizard. "Good Lord ! Of course." he wispered to himself before addressing to Harry: "Harry ! Look at me please !" He asked and waited until the youth complied finally. "That is perfectly normal. You don't have to be ashamed or embarrassed about that. You are still very young and you had a lot of things happening to you during those past years. I do perfectly understand that you had neither the time nor the desire to engage yourself in this kind of relationship with anyone until now. Once again, it is perfectly normal, I assure you. I'm really sorry that this prophecy had to come up and rush you into it, believe me !"

Once again he took a pause to see the result of his words on the teenager. Harry seemed relieved but was still fidgeting, still nervous and quite frighten. He had to go on with his advice and fatherly guidance if he wanted some result in this case. He then asked his next question quite carefully and diplomatically. "If you remember the five classes of sexual education you had with Madame Pomfrey last year, you must know what to expect and how to act tomorrow night, don't you?"

"Ah. yes, sir, I do." Harry answered, once again bright red. That had been one of the most embarrassing class he had ever been in. The nurse had explained to the Fifth years Gryfindors the mechanics and proceedings of heterosexual and homosexual relationship, with much details and pictures. Not quite the KamaSutra, but not far from it however. Theoretically, he knew what to expect, that was true. but his wedding night was another matter. There was an unknown factor. Severus Snape.

As if reading in his mind, Dumbledore asked his unspoken question. "I don't want you to worry about that, Harry. Everything will be fine. And I can assure you that you won't have to be afraid of Severus in this matter. On the contrary. It will be difficult and terrifying for him too. This whole wedding and pregnancy is really hard to accept for him too, you know. He only agreed to it because of the goal of this prophecy and for me, specifically for me. And I don't want him to hurt more than necessary, if at all. As for hurting you, he will never do that in this way. He already loathes himself too much, believing that the mere act of sleeping with you will corrupt you, force you into something you will abhor, violate you somehow. Believe me, he won't do anything to add to this guilt.

"HE, on the other hand, will feel terrified and nervous during the whole night. You see, years of physical abuse have made him very wary of touch and any physical contact. He was deeply traumatised and I don't think he was ever involved romantically with anyone. His only experience in this matter, I'm afraid, was highly traumatic and did not push him to seek any other experience. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you ?" He finally asked careful not to reveal the last secret he had finally learnt from Severus not two hours ago. He had no right to divulge such a confidence. Severus would tell it to Harry if and when he wanted to. That was not his place.

Harry however without fully grasping all the meanings of what the headmaster had hinted to him, had grasped a new understanding of Severus. The child whose father had never shown love to, who had been sold to Voldemort, had certainly been beaten and tortured on many occasions. If the Headmaster had not been there, he would not even have known that compassion and human warmth could exist. His experience of physical contact was pain and beatings. Of course, he would not have felt very secure around anyone, close enough to become a victim once again if he let someone the possibility to do it. He would be scared and very careful not to abandon any control. What a nigthmare the man had to live in at times.

"Yes, sir. I'm afraid I do understand" he answered sadly.

"If I have only one favor to ask from you in my whole life," Dumbledore started with a pleading voice, begging eyes but a demanding heart. "it would be for you to treat him with the uppermost care, patience, gentleness, tenderness and compassion during your wedding night? Maybe he'll try to stay strong and in control, maybe he will be in danger to fall apart emotionally and close himself to the world for protection. But I'm begging you to at the very least pretend to care about him, to love him and not to hurt him. I couldn't stand it, to see my child hurt once again, Harry, please!"

This cry from the heart of a loving father moved Harry deeply. It was perfectly matching his feelings anyway. If he had to spend only one night in his life with the man, if he choses not to continue this relationship so closely after that night, at least he could try to make it as tender and easy as possible for both of them.

"I swear it, sir. I won't hurt him" Harry solemnly promised.

"Thank you, Harry, thank you, for him and for me !" Dumbledore whispered gratefully, one more burden lifted from his old shoulders. He had sat back in his armchair and his eyes seemed lost. Harry did not know where. All had been said for this late afternoon and they were both exhausted emotionally and physically. Harry slowly and soundlessly stood up and calmly went to the door. He was going to open it when the soft voice of the Old Protector rose once again behind him and stopped him in his movement.

"Harry, one more thing, please."He said and waited for Harry to turn toward him and to concentrate on what he would say. "This whole matter is of the uppermost secret. I would appreciate highly if you did not say a word about it to anyone. And I mean your two friends also, Miss Granger and Mr Weasley. Not now, at least. It's very important for the security of the both of you and of the future."

" Yes sir" Harry responded immediately respectfully and obediently. "Good bye, sir" he added before finally leave the room.

Part 7 : Friends.

Harry was on his way back to the Gryffindor dormitory, hoping to find in this familiar haven a place to stay away from the terrifying mission he had inherited this afternoon. He felt really exhausted, not really physically, but definitely emotionally and mentally. The prospect of the events of the next day and the burden of the knowledge of the past had drained all his energy. Many questions, doubts and fears were trying to overload him. His only urge now, however, was to cast them away from his mind, one way or another. If only he could forget, erase this day of his life and never see it come back in his future...

He wanted to be alone. Wanted...no. That was not the word. He had to be alone. Harry knew that the first glimpse his friends would have of him and they would know that something was wrong with him. The numbness in his gaze, the weariness on his face would give him away as surely as if he was walking down the hallways screaming, "I have big problems" at the top of his lungs. What a good material for an actor, for a spy, he was indeed! Not like Severus... Oh Snape... Harry did not want to think about him right now. No Snape, no wedding, no baby, no prophecy, no tomorrow...

Harry knew he would not be able to forget that, or to sleep for that matter. Usually, he would have gone to Ron and Hermione, his best friends and confidents for five years now. He would tell them everything and they would try to comfort him and help go through whatever the problem was. They would never betray his trust and reveal anything to anyone. That had always been this way. But today he had made a promise not to tell them anything, for now at least. And it was difficult not to do just that. Harry did not want to lie to them, to hide this new and important change in his life from them. He was not even sure if he would be able to do that without them finding out that there was something wrong with him. They knew him far too well.

But then again, Harry was doubted that they would understand him and his reaction to the situation. Especially his reaction to Snape. His sudden will to discover the man behind the mean teacher, his protective instincts that were rising slowly after his discussion with Headmaster Dumbledore. And his hope to finally find a family... a family, that was something they already had. They were loved, very well cared for, and had a lot of relatives to support and comfort them through the trials and joys of life. Harry however had lost his family when he was a year old. He could not even remember it. The Dursleys? Never a kind word, never a loving gesture, never any attention from them, except maybe for unfair punishments or when Dudley felt like beating him up a little. Ron and Hermione could not really picture it as it was. They had it and therefore did not know how it was to long for it. Harry however started to feel like he wanted to take his chance at this...even if it was with Severus Snape. That was something he did not really understand very well yet... He knew that there were still so much obstacles to overcome. And he didn't know if he would be willing to go through it when more difficulties would rise... Time would tell...

On these disturbing reflections, Harry had arrived at the entrance of the Gryffindor common room. He had hoped that it would be deserted. It was close to 7pm, after all, time for dinner. Usually, the students would all be heading to the Great Hall right now. But no such luck. A circular look around the room told him that Hermione and Ron were still here, sitting comfortably near the hearth reading respectively an advanced charms book and a Quidditch magazine. Nothing unusual. The security of normalcy, home: this was what they stood for at the moment. But Harry did not want their questions that would have to stay unanswered or their worries that he was sharing absolutely. What he wanted was his bed and maybe some rest, some dreamless sleep...

Harry tried his best to sneak behind them and reach the door of the staircase leading to the sixth year's dormitory unnoticed. And nearly succeeded. He was one foot away from his escape door when Ron's voice rose and stopped him in his step.

"Hey Harry! Here you are finally!" Ron cried from the other side of the room. "We have been looking for you for ages. Where have you been?"

That was it. No way to escape without telling him by this mere act that something was wrong with him. `Come on Harry, you can do it. Put this smile on you face, take a grip, look natural and turn around' he told himself and obeyed his own admonishment.

"Hey Ron! Sorry about that. I just left Dumbledore's office five minutes ago." He explained when he was arrived next to his friends and sat heavily in one of the armchairs.

"What, you mean that you were stuck there the whole afternoon?" asked Ron horrified. "What did he want with you anyway?"

"Oh, nothing much. He only wanted me and Se..Snape to stop fighting every time we see each other like this morning." Harry said as his inspiration went on. That was not totally a lie either. Only a half-truth. `No need to get nervous, Harry, no need to get bright red.'

"What, you mean Snape was there too? And you didn't kill each other?" came Ron's ironic reply. Hermione however, who had just looked up from her book to study Harry's face was not as eager as Ron to turn this into a laughing matter.

"Ron ! Stop that will you! Don't you see how tired he is? Don't bother him!" she admonished the red-haired boy who reluctantly relented, before turning her worried attentions toward Harry. "So, what happened during this meeting? What came out of it? You were there for four hours at least? Is there something new, some danger we should be aware of?" She anxiously enquired from Harry who seemed to fall apart a little more after each question.

"So who is pressuring him now, `Mione?" Ron muttered, earning then an annoyed glare from the girl.

"Rooonnn!" She growled annoyed before turning her attention once again to Harry.

"Tell us Harry, what took you so long? What did you talk about?"

"Well...Nothing important, really" he started hesitantly. "Dumbledore insisted that he did not want us to go on fighting and antagonizing each other like that so much, that I should show a little more respect to Snape, and so on and so on...Oh, and we had some tea too!" That was the truth after all. All right, not the whole truth, but part of it anyway. Harry was so uncomfortable having to lie to his friends.

"What, more than three hours spent to talk about moral and polite relationship with the Snape? Is Dumbledore so much bored on week ends that he can't find anything else to do?" Ron asked, sarcasm flowing from his mouth.

"Rooonnn! Will you show a little respect for Headmaster Dumbledore?" Hermione admonished him exasperated by the ironic tone her friend was using so generously. She once again turned back to Harry. The more she was looking at him, the more she felt that there was something else. He seemed tired...and that was normal, after the hours of practice and the long hours in the Headmaster's office with the `difficult' Potions Master. He seemed nervous, he was fidgeting and Harry's eyes were cast on anything but on either Hermione' or Ron's eyes. "Is there something else, Harry? You don't look like you're okay, you know" She remarked with her gentlest and softest voice.

That was it! Not five minutes with his best friends and they already knew that Harry was not really well and had hidden something from them or at least, that he had not told them everything. He was definitely too easy to read. And Severus had lived this way since he was ten years old! What a talent, indeed! Well, the man was Slytherin after all...that was second nature for him. Useful trick, sometimes. And that was something else Harry would have to learn, and soon, if he did not want to betray himself furthermore in the future.

At least this time, there was no way Ron or Hermione could guess the whole truth. That was too enormous, too unbelievable for that. Getting married with Snape and impregnating him tomorrow...no one would ever think about that if they were in their right mind. The only thing he needed right now was to mislead his friends. To find a good enough explanation for his nervousness...an excuse. And to stop feeling so guilty about this lack of honesty with his two best friends. An excuse...

"Well, maybe it's because I have earned a detention tomorrow night with Snape in the dungeons...that must be the reason" he said, as if he had tried to joke but could not really laugh about it yet. Everyone knew that detentions with Snape meant awfully disgusting tasks made under the constant sarcasm of the hated teacher. And when Harry was concerned, Snape would not even think twice before using his venomous tongue against the poor student. Well, that was a very good excuse, which would perfectly explain his distraught looks and, incidentally his trip to the dungeons on the next night.

"Ouch...a detention with Snape! Poor Harry!" Ron started to exclaim sympathetically. "I'm sure he did not appreciate your little discussion this morning at all. And having to be lectured by Dumbledore about it...he had to be pretty upset!"

"Oh...yes...you could say that..." Harry confirmed darkly.

"You'd better be careful tomorrow night. He could get really nasty with you...he could jump on you and suck your blood!" Ron mused, a little worry and a lot of amusement dancing in his eyes. Harry however did not want to laugh at all. He had gotten even paler than he had been when he had left Dumbledore's office. Those few words had awoken all his worries, nervousness and uncertainties. That was much too close to the reality. And he did not need that right now. To forget, to let it slip from his memories, that was all he wanted now that he was with his friends. Not that he trusted he could really manage that, no. But he could hope, couldn't he?

Luckily, Hermione, who had seen his uneasiness with the subject, had decided to come save him. "Rooooonnnnnn! I don't think that Harry wants to be reminded of that future punishment right now!" She said, glaring at her dear, but quite untactless, friend meaningfully. "Anyway, it's time to go down to the Great Hall for dinner. Come on, guys!" She then urged them, changing the subject definitely.

As always, the prospect of filling their stomachs won over the pursuit of this discussion. Well, that was true for Ron anyway, as Harry was not hungry at all, nervous and upset as he was. Two minutes later, anyway, they sat at their usual spots at the Gryffindor's table. They were not the first to arrive and the food had already magically appeared in front of them.

But they were not the last either. Glancing toward the teachers' table, Harry had remarked that Dumbledore and Snape were missing. That was not even a real surprise. After the stress and the emotional exhaustion he had witnessed in both the older wizards and felt himself, he could not blame them for not wanting to come into the crowded hall to eat. They could do that into their private office and rooms. Or even skip a meal, as he would have done happily at this moment.

How lucky they were. Well lucky was not the word, considering the cause they had not to be here. But they were definitely luckier than he was in this matter: they did not have to pretend to be fine and happy right now, in front of the whole school... As for knowing if they were taking the news better than himself, that was another matter altogether. Severus was certainly as nervous and terrified about their destiny as he was. Maybe more, in fact; considering his past and the scars he had left from all the traumas he had gone through. Harry hoped he was not making himself ill over it. Not that he would not understand it, because he really did. But it would not ease the facts at all. Only make them even more frightening and awkward.

No, he did not want to think about that, about the morrow...Damn, it could have been his bachelor party tonight, if he had been thrilled and happy to get married...Ron could have been his best man and Hermione would have been there too to organise everything and to worry about everyone...But this prophecy...Snape...the wedding ceremony...the wedding night...the baby...No, he did not want to think about that!

Harry tried to turn his attention toward the conversations that were currently going on at the Gryffindor's table. Ron and Hermione were once again arguing about something that Harry could not really feel any interest about for the time being. It seemed that his mind had decided to run from it to constantly come back toward the new situation he had been thrown into a few hours ago, cutting himself from the preoccupation of his classmates and friends.

Twenty minutes later, still unable to concentrate enough to integrate himself in his friends' discussion and not even having touched the food in his plate, Harry finally stood up discretely left the Great Hall to go to bed where he tried against hope to reach sleep and its welcomed numbness.

Chapter 8: the Fertility spell.

At the other side of the castle, in the dungeons, Severus Snape was no more at ease than Harry was. After Dumbledore had left him, it had been a long time before he had even moved. Lost in thoughts and overwhelmed by waves of angst and panic, Severus had tried to keep himself from falling apart totally. He had tried to steel his nerves, to prevent his limbs from shaking so much, and his tears from rolling down his cheeks. At least, he had shown Albus that he would be able to accept his destiny and fulfil his duty till the end. He had not disappointed him.

But inwardly Severus was not so sure of his own strength. One part of the little hope he had left in his heart had been scattered. Since his childhood, Hogwarts had always been for him a place where he could be safe and protected. He didn't have to worry about his father, or about the Deatheaters, and worse even, about Voldemort's every wish and special attention. Albus was always present when he needed him, for advice, comfort or some understanding. He could be a human being, there, not only a toy or a slave. Hogwarts had been his haven for more than twenty years now. And suddenly, that had changed. The illusion had started to fade away.

Severus felt cornered, out of control, used. And he had agreed to that. No reason to complain. He had been free to say yes or no after all. He would not like it at all. He would be scared to the core. He would be repulsed. But he would have to go through this anyway. It wasn't as if this was something new. Well not the pregnancy part of course. He had a lot of experience of this kind of unwelcome submission with Voldemort. And Harry Potter didn't seem to be the violent or pervert kind. It wouldn't even be a rape this time. He had agreed to this...He had trapped himself all alone. God! Had he gone mad?

The mere prospect of this night was sending violent shudders through Severus' spine. He did not know how he would handle the situation, the next night. Very little chance that he would enjoy it, anyway. With a bit of luck, he could manage to distance himself the whole time, and let the boy do what he had to do.

That would be the easiest afterward for the both of them. That was their duty, nothing more. Severus did not want to create any romantic relationship that could harm him even more. People always betrayed and hurt him. That was a simple fact. Why would it be different here? At least, with this mechanical intercourse, there was little chance that the boy would get attached to him thanks to that. Potter had always hated him after all.

Well, considering his youth, it was also possible that Harry had absolutely no experience in this matter. Severus would then have to take a more active part in their wedding night and guide the boy, his virgin husband. That would be even worse to accept. He would have to be present psychically for that. No escape in numbness. Another wave of disgust and fear travelled his body to this prospect. He had to get a grip if he did not want to fall down in a panic attack. At least, this solution would make him less of a victim and would provide him a certain amount of control over himself and the events. That would be less of a repetition of his `relationship' with Voldemort. Maybe less traumatic.

And the baby...that was another matter. To have his body hosting it, being invaded, like by a parasite. That was something Severus could not even start to figure how he felt about. Well, at least he would have some time to get used to the idea and to the reality. Nine months...nearly a year like that. The mere representation of that was absolutely terrifying. The best would be to forget about it till the reality could not be ignored anymore. Not to think about it right now.

"God, Severus, get a grip" he told himself several times. "Look what you have become: a whining little weakling who can not even handle his duties. You are disgusting. GET A GRIP!" This self-disparaging admonishment that came after one hour of these torturous reflections marked the moment Severus abandoned his statue-like position and began to move back to life.

One of the rare things he considered precious over anything else was the control he had over himself, as during his whole life he had had very little control over the events he encountered and the things that were done to him. But through it all, he had managed to stay alive psychically because he had always kept the leadership of his thoughts and reactions. He would never let anyone or any event take that from him. That was his treasure.

In this situation, today, after learning about his destiny, there had been a crisis of sorts. Severus had felt lost and threatened to the core by his own emotions and fears. That was simply unacceptable. He had to get over it, and quickly. Regain his control over himself and then he would be able to go through anything they would throw at him. That was the way or that was the end of him.

But thinking over and over about that would not make anything better. Severus had to clear his mind and forget for a time all this stress. Sleep would be nice for it, but impossible right now. As usual, in this kind of crisis, there was only one remedy that made wonders for him, like this Zen meditation he had heard about from the muggles. Immersing himself in the art of brewing delicate potions.

For as long as he could remember, he had always been fascinated by it. The power and magic of the potions. An art in itself. A symphony that could take you away from your problems and worried. That had always been a way to hide from the dire reality of his whole existence. Whenever his father would be tyrannical or violent with him, whenever Voldemort had summoned him and given him more attention than Severus had wanted to receive. That practice was an asset for them, something else they could use for their own purpose. And they had even encouraged him into it. Not that he had needed it. Potions were his world, the dimension in which he could be free and happy. That, and of course Albus'comforting presence, had saved him times after times when he felt he would fall apart.

At three years old little Severus had already mastered the simplest of potions. His mother had shown him some. And soon enough, he had been able to continue on his own to finally master this art even before he had come to Hogwarts. By then, he could brew any of them and had even created some. But most of witches and wizards would never understand the art of Potions. Muggle born would even compare it to chemistry or worse, cooking. What a disgrace! No, it was much more than that.

Severus, when he was brewing a potion, could feel the power of the ingredients. They were singing to him, telling him all their abilities, just as if their aura was bright colours that were varying and begging him to be married to form the perfect rainbow. Of course, it demanded a great amount of precision and attention, a rational mind, a perfect control. His mind had to be perfectly centred and at peace. Just what he needed right now.

And that was not only the mixing of the ingredients. Severus was giving a part of himself in each of his potions. An unconscious part of his magical power was throwing a tendril of energy toward the magic of the elements, pushing here, transforming there slightly, enhancing a propriety there. To visualise the perfect potion, to make one with what you have to do, to tune your mind with the potion, to listen to the music of the elements and the symphony of the potion in the making and play it like the conductor of an incredibly diverse orchestra: that was the beauty and the secret of the art. That was the difference between wizards brewing potions and real Potions Masters. Something none of his student could even hope to understand and reach... Those kids would rather talk to their classmates or play pranks than try to concentrate a little and hope to reach once in their life this state of perfection...so frustrating!

Yes, brewing a delicate and difficult potion, that was what his mind was screaming for: the peace and the control that it would bring him. Settling his cauldron and sorting through his pots and vials, Severus prepared his worktable and his ingredients. The full moon would come in three days, which meant that Lupin would need his potion. That was the perfect occasion. A little challenge every month, since the wolf boy had been back to Hogwarts to teach the Defense Against the Dark Arts for this new term. A rather good thing, after all, if only for that reason.

It would take at least two hours. Two hours for himself, far away from the world and its burden. Yes, two hours in the intricacy of this little wonder. People said it was an impossible potion to brew. They just lacked the skills and talent. It was only delicate. Made of the most volatile ingredients that could not physically mix together, like water and oil. The brewer had not only to be extremely precise, but his magical control had also to concentrate on the potion in order to lead the different parts into marrying each other perfectly. And then the mixture, which could be as explosive as nitroglycerin, had to be soothed and kept at peace till the fire died and the cooling spell was chanted, just like a child. A deep understanding of his art and the exact feeling of the elements, that was the key. And that would occupy his mind perfectly. A real challenge!

It was a little over 10 PM when he finally waved his hand in a graceful gesture and extinguished the fire under his cauldron. A little smile still dancing on his lips, Severus was more relaxed and at peace than he had been for the whole day. The magic of the Potions! He started to bottle the dark green liquid when his gaze finally focused on his surroundings. Just in front of him, a few feet away from him, stood Albus Dumbledore, watching him with an affectionate look in the eyes. Startled by this sudden realization that he was not alone, Severus jumped slightly and nearly dropped the bottle. He had been so absorbed by his task that he had been absolutely oblivious of the world around him. It only took five second however to regain his calm face and his cool composure.

"Albus, I didn't notice you there!" He exclaimed a bit nervously, wondering how long the older wizard had been standing here, observing him.

Dumbledore in fact had come into the room fifteen minutes sooner. The day was still not finished for both him and Severus. One last preparation had to be done before the wedding night, 24 hours before, to be precise: the fertility spell. He had wearily walked down the stairs to the dungeons, knocked at the door but had received no answer. Slightly worried, he had magically opened the door and found Severus working on this potion, deeply concentrating to the point of not even being aware of his presence.

This spectacle was a very rare occasion for Albus, and anyone for that matter. Something he decided he wanted to enjoy as much as he could. Seeing Severus brewing a potion was a real privilege, admiring a real master at work, a wonder.

Albus could feel the pure power radiating from the very centred wizard whose concentration was absolute. The mystical link between Severus and the elements at work into the potion was nearly visible. Not one person in two generations could pretend at reaching this kind of talent and power. A sure sign of this was the fact that Severus didn't even need his wand to perform his magic when he was in this psychic state. In this times when Severus could let go of all his troubles, worries and inhibitions, only then did he let himself show all his power. And that was very impressive. No wonder he had been chosen...poor child.

At least, it meant that Severus had managed to forget his fears and the prospect of his wedding and pregnancy for a few hours. Albus felt a little relieved at this thought. The child had not tortured himself non-stop for the past five hours. But that would soon end. A wave of guilt overwhelmed Albus a short moment later. Once again, he would have to disturb this relative and fragile peace of mind to add some more physical and emotional pain to Severus' burden.

"Yes, I arrived a few minutes ago and couldn't miss the chance to see you performing your art!" he said, his praise and his admiration for Severus obvious in this only sentence. A shadow of worry and uneasiness crept however rapidly on his features.

"The Wolfbane Potion, as you can see, Headmaster." Severus started to explain, refusing to acknowledge the fact that Dumbledore did not come down to the dungeons late at night to talk about that. "I thought I'd brew it today, as the next few days won't leave me much time to do so, I believe."

"Of course, Severus, very thoughtful of you." He answered a little more darkly before letting an uncomfortable silence settle between them. The cause of this delay was clear for both of them. No need to develop and press the point further. Something about the prophecy. Severus calmly and methodically put away all the pots and bottles he had used, cleared his worktable and cleaned his cauldron, acting as normally as he could while he was nervously waiting for the next news to hit him.

"Have you eaten dinner this evening, Severus? I didn't even come up to the great hall, did you?" Albus finally inquired gently. This concern that he would not have usually expressed about Severus health and day-to-day well being would begin to become quite important in the next few months. And the next few hours would be very demanding for his body, because of the after effects of the fertility spell.

"No I didn't." Severus admitted, sighing and highly annoyed by these questions that intruded his privacy. "I was too busy...and beside, I was not really hungry. Not that it should matter to you, Headmaster." He coldly said.

"But it concerns me, Severus, child." Albus gently admonished him and summoned magically a tray charged of food and a glass of milk that he set on the nearest table. "Here, you should eat that. You'll need it, Severus." He ordered softly if firmly.

"Albuuus! I told you, I'm not hungry..." Severus tried to argue before he was glared into sitting in front of the tray and starting to pick up a piece of bread and eat it reluctantly. It had never been possible to disobey the older wizard anyway. Sooner or later, he would have complied. Why not sooner, in this condition? That did not mean however that he could not show his disapproval of the present situation. A simple look at Severus' glowering and furious eyes would be proof enough of his dark mood.

Albus did not usually bother him with such details. If Dumbledore did it at this moment, it had to be important. Hadn't he said earlier this afternoon that he would be back the same night to perform one spell or another on him? That simple reflection brought up all the tension and apprehension he had managed to force back for a few hours at the front of his mind. His eyes quickly lost their light and a shadow came crawling on his face. Severus started to play unconsciously with his food, not even trying to pretend he was going to eat one more mouthful.

A feeling of dread had settled in him whispering softly in his mind that something would soon come and try and test his resistance.

Seeing these changes playing on Severus' gaze and features, Dumbledore, who had chosen to stay silent for a moment and watch him have his dinner without being disturbed, sighed deeply. It was time to explain the process and reassure Severus as much as possible. The child would not eat anything else now anyway. There was no more reason to delay what had to take place now. The old wizard, who had taken a seat near the younger man, stood up, started to pace back and force in front of the unlit hearth and finally coughed lightly to attract Severus' attention.

"Severus, child...you must wonder why I am here right now." he started a little unsure and nervous. The prospect of hurting his child had never been something he was looking forward. Albus wished he were anywhere else at this time. But obviously, that would not happen. He had a duty and he would accomplish it, no matter what. He had to get a grip on his feelings, particularly the guilt that haunted him, and calm himself. Deciding to be once more brutally honest, he took a deep breath in and went on with his explanation with a much steadier voice.

"There is still something else to be done tonight in order to assure the success of the prophecy tomorrow night. The fertility spell." Dumbledore started and made a short pause to let Severus the possibility to fully grasp the meaning of his words. A gasp of fear quickly hidden told him that that result had been reached and he continued. "I won't lie to you, Severus, that will be painful for a few minutes...a torture. But I'll be here with you and I'll try my best and alleviate your suffering, trust me. Your being a man demands a few physical inner adaptations. That mean that I'll have to build a place for the foetus to settle and then to grow, to change slightly your hormonal system to supply the baby's needs during the pregnancy, and finally to create an egg with your DNA. It's a very powerful spell that will use a lot of energy, mine and yours both. But it will be soon finished, believe me, but it have to be done 24 hours before the impregnation...I'm sorry to pressure you this way, Severus, child, but there is really no way around it..." During the whole speech, Albus had kept a careful and gentle look on Severus and had seen him flinch violently at the description of what had to be done. But no protest had crossed the younger wizard's mouth. "Do you have any question?" he Dumbledore added a few moments later.

Every word of this cold and technical explanation had perfectly reached Severus, creating an horribly vivid picture of what was going to happen soon, much too soon, in his mind. His destiny, that he had started to slowly accept, was becoming very real to him...too much real for his taste. In a few minutes, it would even be physical...A wave of panic had threatened to overwhelm his sanity but his trained acceptance had finally defeated it. He felt slightly nauseous and he was sure he had paled dramatically, but his mind was set on his duty, only his duty. Questions? No, he did not have any question. Questions were dangerous. They would only deepen his doubts and multiply his terrors.

"Questions? Not really..."he answered finally a few minutes later, his voice as far away. "Only maybe...was I namely chosen to carry the child?" That question had crossed his mind a few times, during the afternoon. Dumbledore had never be quite precise about that and it had triggered a little suspicion in his brain. Not that it was important, but...maybe part of him wanted to know the reasons why he had been sentenced to this fate...

"No, Severus. That was my choice." Dumbledore honestly answered waiting for a look of anger or betrayal in Severus' eyes that never came. Only puzzlement and acceptance, as well as a faint amount of curiosity that silently cried "Why me?". Albus continued before the younger man could voice it. "That was the only safe way. Harry is still a teenager, and I think that he is still going to grow up, at least for one or two more years. His body would have rejected the pregnancy and would not have resisted the strain of it. Besides, Harry would not have been able to hide it for so long as I know you can. He may be more mature and stronger than most of the boys of his age, but he still lacks the strength past experiences has given you." Albus described his reasoning matter of factly and sincerely and made a pause. "I hope that you will have in you to forgive me all the pain it will bring you..."he finally whispered sadly.

Severus nodded slowly, accepting the truth of these cold explanations. "I understand, Albus..." he said softly a few minutes later. "You are right...And none of this is your fault. I suppose that you did not have anymore choice than I had in the matter. You...did for the best...I understand" He managed to whisper, feeling the unfair guilt disturbing and saddening the one person who had always tried to comfort and protect him. There was nothing to forgive. That was not his fault. And Albus at least was still with him through all this. If a part of Severus wanted to blame his hurt on the messenger, he knew however that it would not comfort him.

Albus, at these words, felt overwhelmed by the evidence of the generous and great soul that had so much trust and affection for him. Pride and admiration for Severus were overflowing in his heart. A tear was threatening to fall from his eyes. That was his child, his wonderful child! How could he Severus forgive him when Albus himself felt so guilty hurting him? A enhanced desire to protect Severus rose once more, unfortunately balanced by the knowledge of his duty. Albus took a few more minutes to calm and centre himself before at last he could find his voice again. "Are you ready?" He gently asked Severus, a comforting hand on the slightly shaking child.

"As ready as I'll ever be, Albus" he whispered, his trusting and terrified eyes locked on the man he loved as a father. With a deep breath in and out, he steeled himself and stood up.

"Very well. Come with me, child." He said seriously, a reassuring gaze still fixed on the younger man.

Dumbledore then lead him into the bedroom and locked the door behind them. "Go and remove your robe, Severus,and lie down on the bed". Severus reluctantly complied, stepping for a few minutes in the near bathroom before coming back barefoot and in a light, long and ample white nightshirt that was covering his whole body to the knees. He kept throwing nervous glances toward Dumbledore, as if checking his reaction and looking there for any sign of disgust or loathe in the older man's eyes. Finding none, he finally settled himself in the middle of his large four-poster bed, on top of the covers.

Albus then sat next to him, delicately undid a few buttons of the nightshirt in order to bare Severus' pale chest and abdomen and put his warm hands on his stomach, always keeping the eyes' contact with him. Once assured that his touch was not too much repulsive Severus, he instructed gently "Close your eyes, relax". Once again, Severus complied, steeling himself for what was going to come. A few second later, a too soft to be heard "I'm sorry Severus" flew from Albus' mouth before he started to chant the spell and direct his energy toward Severus' stomach. "Adsit fertilitas ad creationem infantis in illum virum" he repeated time after time.

Once the energy had been transferred and the words had been voiced, the transformations began. Severus gasped as a wave of pain washed over him. His abdomen was on fire, torn apart as if a giant knife had been cutting his guts. He gritted his teeth, not willing to show his weakness to Albus. Soon however, only pain was filling his awareness, chasing any thought he could have had. As a second, a third and a fourth wave of excruciating torture came, he could no longer resist and screamed, each time breaking Albus heart.

Finally, five minutes later, the vivid torture receded as Albus' hands were taken away from his belly. Gasping and hardly able to breath, Severus felt then the tremor of a strong fever settle in his exhausted system, battling dangerously his life strengths. The welcomed numbness of exhaustion had finally found its way to his nerves ending and had chased the pain away. But the comforting presence of Albus soon came and helped him out of this life threatening abandon.

The old man in fact had taken Severus into his arms and had started rocking him, back and forth, whispering softly to him and gently infusing him with healing energy. "Fight it, Severus. You're strong. I know that. Fight it. You'll get through it, I promise. Shhh...I'm here, child, you're not alone. You'll get through it. It will be fine very soon" he repeated constantly on his softest tone, his hand stroking Severus forehead and long hair. This wave of warmth and comfort finally reached Severus and slowly calmed him and lead him into the merciful arms of sleep.

Albus, once assured that Severus would resist the changes undamaged, had chanted a sleeping and dreamless charm on his child. He delicately tucked the limp body in the bed, under a mountain of blankets, and settled himself in the nearest chair to watch him through the night, still holding his hand to show him that he was not alone. With a last thought, Dumbledore cast another spell to help another boy to sleep, in his bed, in the Gryffindors 6th years' dormitory, and let himself finally relax for a few hours.

Chapter 9: Wedding rituals

It was only on Sunday evening, around 7:15pm, at dinnertime, that Severus Snape left his private quarters in the dungeons. He had slept late, last night. Till noon, in fact. He had been still a little sore and tired, from the fertility spell, no doubt. Dumbledore had been still there, reading parchments and letters quietly in the armchair beside Severus' bed. His presence had both sent a nice wave of warmth and comfort to the younger wizard and embarrassed him to no end. It had bothered him to be seen like that, weak and unable to withstand a little spell and forcing Albus to spend the night here because of him. As if he had nothing better to do with his time.

Severus had however gratefully accepted the light lunch Albus had presented him on a tray when he had first woken up. But the presence at his side had soon become enervating and bothering. He didn't want to have, still once again, to pretend that everything was fine when in truth, the mere thought of what was going to happen a few hours later this evening was sending shudders of apprehension and repulsion through his body and waking some memories he would rather see buried for ever in the depth of his mind. Quickly, Severus had escaped in the room next door and spent one hour and a half in the warm water of his bath. That could have been really nice and relaxing, hadn't he been so preoccupied. At least, when he had stepped out of his bathroom, Albus had left. The following hours had not brought him any comfort either, but at least, he had been alone and free to be himself for a while.

He had finally left his quarters at Dumbledore's insistent demand to get to the Great Hall and let every one see him. At least once during the weekend, for normalcy sake. His long absence at the staff table, overlooking the Slytherin table and making his presence known to his students would seem suspect if it had to go on any longer. In the nearly fifteen years he had been teaching at Hogwarts and had been Head of Slytherin House, he had never neglected this duty.

There was really no need for any questions right now, at the autumn equinox, the key day. Not that anyone could guess...but well, that was maybe safer that way.

Of course, this kind of reasoning had seemed a little exaggerated to Severus. More likely, Dumbledore had wanted him to change his mind for a few minutes at least, to change his scenery, to get away from the gloomy dungeons before the fateful moment, in less than one hour now. Well, the Headmaster had to be happy, now. His mask firmly kept in place, Severus was there, in the crowded great hall, playing with his food and being his usual scowling, loathing and sneering self. But if the goal was to distract him, that had not been a success. Not at all.

Now, his colleagues had not even pretended to acknowledge his presence here...as they usually did. They were currently making small talk with each other, speaking about the weather and the students' well-being...and such nonsense, being very careful not to include him into their little conversations. Good for them, very good for him: no need to pretend even more than necessary.

Well, Lupin had tried to ask him if he was fine, as Severus had appeared to him a little paler than usual, but Snape had been so cold and sarcastic in his answer that the unwelcome attention had died before it had grown to a bothering level. Albus had also sent him a few worried and affectionate glances, but nothing else. If he was much more than trusted teacher to Dumbledore, in public, he was nothing else. This was what the Deatheaters and their children, his dear little Slytherin brats, expected.

As for the students, well, nothing new today. The rare ones brave enough to dare to look at him seemed so terrified that it could be funny if it wasn't a bit sad: look at those Hufflepuffs and those Ravenclaws. Just as if he were about to torture or kill them at the first opportunity. Well, at least, it proved that his mask had not slipped a bit tonight. For now, at least. The perfect scowl, the little sneer, the cold and angry look in his black eyes...

The Slytherins had some respect for him, of course, bought by his patent favouritism and his being one of the highest Deatheaters. That was not common knowledge but the next generation of Malfoys, Goyles or Crabbes, had learnt that from their fathers, and had been taught to behave in consequence around him. And the Gryffindors...the heroes in the making, the foolishly brave ones... Severus could still see the fright in them. But it was mixed with some form of hate and disgust, and maybe the little hint of a desire to get revenge for his unfair treatment of them...

Turning his glance toward the Gryffindor table, Severus met Harry's nervous and unsure eyes. That was the first time he had seen the boy since the previous day, in the Headmaster's office. To be sincere, Severus had not really given him a second thought. He had been more preoccupied about the situation in itself. The identity of his `partner' in this fulfilment of the prophecy had not really been important in his reflection. But now that Potter was just in front of him, their eyes locked together, as if they tried to study each other, to read each other's reactions and expectations, to find out what they intended to do to each other and what they feared from each other, the question demanded to come into the equation.

Severus had never really hated the boy. That was never the problem. He had so many people to hate for very good reasons, like his father or Voldemort. Of course, he pretended he did. He had to, to appear the perfect Deatheater, hating the enemy of his master and making his life into hell. He would have even been totally indifferent to the boy...but God, Potter was so irritating. True, he was a real Gryffindor, brave and brainless, always playing the hero without thinking about the consequences, just as if he had all the rights in the world. Something like `I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, I'm the only one able to fight Voldemort, I'm stronger and smarter and braver and luckier and fairer and nicer than you and I'll do whatever I want to do...and I don't care if in the process I get you killed because that's the way I want to do it...'. So arrogant. So little respect for anyone. And Severus had to protect this brat, to make sure that nothing would ever harm him. He was the only one Albus trusted for that. And nothing would come to betray this trust that was so precious to Severus.

If he had to be honest, somewhere, deep in his heart, Snape was a little envious of the boy. Potter had the protection Severus had never had when he was young. Voldemort had wanted the boy, to kill him or to corrupt him, whatever, but Dumbledore had done everything to keep him safe when Albus had been unable to do that for Severus. Potter was the Boy-Who-Lived and Severus Snape had become... And the boy found some ground to complain about his fate anyway... the spoiled brat. Well, if he was reasonable, Severus knew that this reaction was totally unfair and was a part of his dark unconscious. He could even understand the boy, take pity on him, at times. But that stupid envy was one of the reasons the fights between them were so easy to fuel and to carry on...

And that was the boy...the young man now, he had to marry, submit to and carry the child...in less than half an hour. Oh God! What could Potter be thinking? That it would be the perfect occasion to take his revenge against the teacher he hated so much? That he would be able for once to humiliate him, to hurt him, to touch him? The worse thing was that this was exactly what would happen. Was he afraid, or better yet, disgusted, to have to link his existence to Severus', to spend the night with this filthy and ugly body inhabited by this awful and bitter person?

Well, that was only the matter of one night, nothing more. That should be a great joy and comfort to Potter, relieving him of this horrible burden that was named Severus Snape. In no way did Potter want to be involved in this more than absolutely necessary. What would there be in it for him after all, such a young man with him? Potter would only be the father after all. One night would be enough. Not like him, who would have to live with the result of this prophecy growing in his body. With a little luck, Potter would play the great-hearted hero, and be the perfect gentleman, to a certain extent of course, and show him, if not a little respect, at least a little amount of tact. That was not Voldemort, at least.

This very thought, and all the traumatic memories it triggered, was already threatening to make Severus sick. Impulsively, Severus turned his eyes away from Potter's and suddenly, in a nervous and nearly brutal gesture, pushed away his plate, still full of food, stood up rigidly and hurried out of the Great Hall to his private quarters where the ceremony would take place less than twenty minutes later.

At the Gryffindor table, this had not gone unnoticed. Harry had chosen a time when his friends had been deep in conversation with each other to turn around and cast a glance toward the staff table. Dumbledore had seen his move and was smiling to him reassuringly, nodding lightly as if to say that everything would be fine. His glance then drifted to the farthest side of the table and set on the dark form of Professor Snape.

The man didn't seem at first sight any different than usual, still sneering and generally loathing as his gaze was slowly travelling from the teachers to each house's table. Maybe a little paler although. But watching him a little longer, Harry could see the Potions Master fidgeting a little. In two minutes, he had not even touched his food. And seeing the state of his plate, he had certainly not even eaten anything since he had arrived. He had not seen him yesterday at dinner time either... a sure sign that the man was a little more nervous and affected about the current situation than his cold and unfeeling looks would show. Understandable... if Harry had lived through what Severus had, he would be much more ill at ease and terrified than him...

Then, Snape locked his eyes on his. And Harry found himself unable to break the contact. He felt as hypnotised by the intensity of the concentration that shown in Severus' eyes. He felt observed and studied by the most sharp and inquisitive mind he had ever met. The scrutiny was not an aggression, however. Merely a nervous and defensive inspection, to make sure of the danger Harry represented. The frown on Snape's forehead and the narrowed eyebrows told Harry so much. Poor Severus, forced out of his safe loneliness and pushed in Harry's arms, there was enough there to disturb and frighten the coolest man... Snape had never liked Harry, but at this point in time, Harry was sure that the teacher had to abhor him... And yet, that was not hate he could see in Severus' eyes.

The contact finally broke, when Snape suddenly stood and hastily stepped out of the Great Hall. The rupture of this silent and wordless exchange was a brutal relief for Harry. For the second time in two days, he had had a glimpse of a Snape he had never met before, a man who had human reactions, just like himself, someone who was also dreading his destiny, just like himself, not the cold bastard he had gotten used to for six years now. Ron's voice tore him from his musings.

"Hey, Harry, did you seeSnape? Was he furious when he ran away!" He exclaimed, the familiar amusement threading his voice when he spoke about his least favourite teacher. "You think someone stepped on his foot lately?"

"Hummm...what?" Harry mumbled startled.

"Snape! You'd better be careful around him tonight. The vampire at his angriest, as it seems!" Ron summarized, chuckling.

"Oh that's right. You have detention with him this evening, right?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah." Harry sighed dejectedly before checking his watch. "As a matter of fact, I'd better go. It's 7:55pm. That's five minutes left before I'm late. I don't want to make him madder at me." He added before he stood up and left, a little wearily. "Good luck then!" Harry heard Hermione and Ron chorused before he reached the door.

Four minutes later, at 7:59 pm, in front of Snape's office and private quarters door, Harry took a pause, hesitating, wondering for the last time if he really had to knock and seal his fate. He had asked himself this question during the whole afternoon, wandering alone and aimlessly at the edge of the forbidden forest. He knew he had to do this, he knew he would do this. And yet, the last step was still difficult and in front of this large and old wooden door, he was utterly terrified, nervously shaking and doubting his resolve one last time.

Harry was really hesitating between reaching for the door and walking away then and there, when he felt a hand landing lightly on his shoulder and squeezing it reassuringly. Turning his head toward the owner of this hand, Harry was not surprised to recognise the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore. No way out, now. He had to get himself together and take some force where he could find it, in the calm comfort of the old wizard who was looking at him so affectionately and compassionately, with a deep understanding written in the eyes.

"Will you be okay, Harry?" Dumbledore asked him gently and concerned.

"Yes, sir," Harry answered finally when he had regained a little composure and felt able to speak with his voice steady enough. Dumbledore studied his features a few seconds before nodding lightly.

"If that's so, if you're ready, Harry, I think it's time to get inside and proceed to the ceremonies." He said firmly before waving the door open with his wand and gently pushing Harry through the potions master office to an other door opening on a little sitting room, sparsely furnished with two armchairs, a couch and a little coffee table.

At the other side of the door, Severus had been dreading the two other wizards' arrival. The sound of the door opening broke his nervous concentration and startled him, stopping his feverish pacing in the living room. This reaction showed briefly on his face, his eyes slightly widened in apprehension, his skin got paler than it had already been, his expression froze for a few seconds. But quickly, the potions master straightened up and regained his former composure, spreading a blank and expressionless mask on his features. The time had finally come and there was no way to escape. It was better to go through this with as much self- control and cold demeanour as possible. That was what duty and honor demanded.

Soon enough, the door had been magically locked and the two other wizards had invaded Severus' private quarters. Harry Potter, his eyes cast down, hurried to the corner of the room opposite to where Severus had found a refuge and was looking fixedly to a spot on the wall. The tension inside the little living room had risen astronomically, fed by the two grooms' apprehensive feelings and desperate resignation. They were basically trying their best to ignore the mere existence of each other. Maybe trying to convince themselves that the other was not here, that the wedding would not happen and that nothing painful would come from their being here and then. A desperate and unsuccessful attempt, indeed.

"Well, Severus, Harry," the Headmaster called softly, driving the attention and glances of the younger wizards, his charges, to him, "the time has come for the prophecy to begin in this generation and century.."

This introduction that sounded a little brutal to both the grooms and Dumbledore didn't come out of cruelty from the old headmaster, but from the need to centre their mind on the task they would have to do and drive it away from their inner hell of fear and nervousness. It was a calculated choice: too much affection and emotional strain now would most likely shatter their defences and break their resolve and composure. Now that the time was an essential factor, that simply couldn't do.

This resolve however was hard to maintain for Albus too. His sense of duty slipped for a few seconds and his affection and compassion shone on his face when he whole-heartedly made his next declaration: "But I want both of you to know how much I appreciate all the sacrifices you've agreed to go through for the Light, how I admire your courage and devotion. I'll always be thankful to you for that, believe me. Thank you, children, thank you!"

After regaining his composure once again, Dumbledore walked toward the middle of the room and observed the surroundings. He had some preparations to make before the ceremony had to take place, in a few minutes now. "But first, let me take care of a few details before we start with the wedding. Only very simple rituals, don't worry. The exchange of consents, followed by the exchange of the rings, then the destiny binding ritual and finally the mind and soul binding spell. Tomorrow morning, I'll have to hide all this, all the elements of the wedding and of the pregnancy with a "Fidelitas" spell. And if you have no objection, I'll be your secret keeper. Everything will be fine, nothing too straining, you'll see. " He explained, when he saw that both Severus and Harry were still fixing him puzzled.

With a wave of his wand, Albus pushed the furniture against the walls, emptying the centre of the room. Chanting softly a spell, he then magically made appear a few drawings on the cold stone pavement: a large circle first, then, inside of it, a pentagram embodied in an equilateral triangle at which angle were emblazoned the complex pictures of the houses symbols. "The four symbols at the summit, the place made for the Protector, for me, the present heir and representative of the four founders," He explained solemnly as the drawing appeared, "the Slytherin and Ravenclaw ones on its right, for Severus Snape, chosen heir of both , as told in the vision I had two nights ago," he added, as he gestured for Severus to come and stand at the place he had designed for him, " and the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff ones on its left, for Harry Potter, chosen heir of both, as told in the vision I had two nights ago."

He ended his instructions when the three of them were finally enclosed in the protection of this magical and mystical circle. Both Severus and Harry had obeyed him at once, but their attitude had not really changed. Their aura was still fuelled with apprehension and fright, and their eyes were making efforts not to meet each other's glance. Throwing then a glance to the two younger wizard, Severus, wearing his resolved and cold mask, showing his determination in his extreme stillness, and Harry, trembling lightly and paling noticeably, unable to mask his emotions, Albus made sure they were mentally as ready as possible to start the proper ceremony and went on with the traditional gestures.

"Very well, if you are ready" he made a pause and waited a few seconds to see them nod resolutely, "then, let's begin the wedding, with the agreement of the fates and the help and testimony of the founders and of all the previous protectors." He invoked the powers and forces at work in the whole magical world to witness and seal the event.

Turning his gaze to Severus, Dumbledore continued with the traditional question, with a powerful and solemn voice. "Severus Sulpicius Snape, heir of Slytherin and Ravenclaw, will you take Harry James Potter, heir of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, here, as your wedded husband, in front of the whole wizarding society, past, present and future, and the whole world, to be united and bonded to him by body, mind and soul, in life and in death too?"

A short silence followed, quickly broken by Severus' firm if reluctant answer "I do". He had recognised the words of the question, which had become his wedding vows, as parts of the strongest kind of marriage that had ever existed in the wizarding world. No escape possible here, never, and in no circumstances...even their ghosts, after their death, would still be married. The mere though of this eternal marriage was terrifying. This physical, emotional and spiritual proximity to another being, which had become for Severus, very early in his life, by experience, a threat and a vision of horror, was exactly what he had just sworn to accomplish and maintain forever. That was done. He had condemned himself. Severus froze and his brain lost any attention it could have given to the events that were taking place around him.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore had turned his glance toward Harry and repeated the same question. "Harry James Potter, heir of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, will you take Severus Sulpicius Snape, heir of Slytherin and Ravenclaw, here, as your wedded husband, in front of the whole wizarding society, past, present and future, and the whole world, to be united and bonded to him by body, mind and soul, in life and in death too?"

The trembling in Harry had become real shaking at the sound of this solemn vow. The sixteen years old boy was stricken by the implications of the vow he had to make. His honor would compel him to live through what he would have sworn to do. This was his future, this was his whole life that would be decided with the two words that were expected from him but that were refusing to come out of his dry throat. Ten seconds passed, twenty, thirty seconds and then one minute, two minutes without any sound to disturb the heavy and tensed silence that had settled. Every second stretched into a real eternity.

"Harry?" Dumbledore asked gently, concerned for Harry and worried about the prospect of the fulfilment of the prophecy, should Harry change his mind at the last moment. The consent of the two chosen was absolutely necessary. Their own free will and not force or violence could only produce the sort of bond involved in the making of the Protector's family.

This voice accented with deep caring and urgency hit a chord in Harry's mind and woke him from his shocked state. "I do." He finally told in a firm voice, sealing both their fates. Dumbledore's grateful and relieved glance thanked him for this effort and his courage.

Albus then summoned magically a small black jewel box, opened it and revealed two large golden rings where gems were set in a complex drawing. On one of them, an emerald snake on a disc of topaz, and on the other, a ruby lion on a disc of sapphire, figuring the colours and coat of arms of the founders, were glittering in the candle light. On the inside band a few words had been carefully engraved: "chosen ones, SS & HP". Splendid pieces of art, both of them.

Keeping the box in front of him for the newly wedded couple to see, Albus went on with the ritual. "Severus, give his ring to Harry and state your vows." He ordered, startling Severus out of his unawareness, holding the box for him to take the ring. With the slightest of the hesitation, Severus took the ring between the thumb and the index of his right hand and moved his other hand slowly forward to take Harry's left hand. At the first contact, he felt a violent tremor and a muttered gasp from his young spouse. Steeling himself to find once again a voice a little steadier, Severus made the lion ring slide on Harry's tense and shivering finger and pronounced the words of his vows " With this ring, I take thee, Harry James Potter as my wedded, bonded and eternal husband." Once the world out of his lips, Severus hurried to break the contact that was so obviously disturbing both of them.

A few seconds later, it was Harry's turn to perform the same ritual, sealing the first part of the wedding by stating his vows. When he tried to make the Snake ring slide on Severus' finger, his spouse shied away from the touch and tore his hand away, and nervously put the ring in place himself. This last sign had not gone unnoticed by Dumbledore, who saw in this instinctive gesture the manifestation of a growing inner fight to do his duty in spite of his greatest fears and the bleeding scars of the past. The ceremony was not yet finished, but

Albus decided at this moment to finish it as soon as possible, to relieve the unbearable tension that had invaded the atmosphere and the minds.

"Join your left hand, now." He instructed gently, knowing that this order was revolting Severus and making Harry ill-at-ease, but there was no way around it. Once they had reluctantly complied, he wrapped their joined hands with a white silken scarf and knotted it tightly around them. Waving his wand on top of it and gently hitting it with it, he chanted a few words that sounded like "Fatum eorum unum sit". One second later, the scarf began to glow and then faded, as if it was dissolving and melting itself and penetrating Harry's and Severus' hands and wrists, like a permanent and physical link between the new couple.

That was it, the three traditional rituals had been accomplished and accepted. The wedding ceremony finally was over, only lacking the concluding declaration .

"Severus and Harry, you are from now on and in eternity a wedded couple". At these words, the two spouses exchanged a glance, embarrassed and quite shy even, burdened by uneasiness and an immense reluctance to acknowledge the reality of their new situation. For both of them, it was an arranged and unwanted wedding and while they knew that it could not be broken, ever, they had both tacitly agreed to keep the actual consequences of this change in their marital status at the strictly necessary elements. For now, they had nothing to discuss, nothing to share, only nervousness and their sense of duty. That common realisation urged the end of their visual exchange. Stepping back a little from each other, they resumed their embarrassed silence and their wandering glance to the floor or the opposite wall.

"Oh, my boys...I'm so proud of you !" Albus exclaimed on his gentlest and most compassionate tone before continuing with a reassuring and encouraging speech he knew they would not accept nor understand right now, but that would make them think and help them with their new and disturbing situation. "I'm sure it is far from easy right now, but, believe me when I tell you that everything will be alright for you, as individual persons and as a couple. Soon you'll be a family and you'll find solace and comfort in each other. Let this day be one of joy and bliss, and not of mourning and despair. I promise you that you'll be fine. The Fates have chosen you for this task and this destiny and they did not decide it lightly. You don't know that yet, but in all eternity, you were made for each other. Believe me, one day you'll see, one day you'll remember it. "

While speaking, Dumbledore had moved closer to both of them and laid a hand on their shoulder, closing the gape between them and comforting them with this simple gesture of affection received with trust and gratitude, and maybe a trace of annoyance at the physical contact from Severus. It was quite easy to see how straining the last half hour had been for the new spouses. They were paler than they had ever been, Harry was visibly shivering and Severus managed with great difficulty to keep his blank expression in place.

They needed a little stronger and more physical remedy than mere words. That's the reason why Albus summoned two little glasses of old cognac and suggested them to drink it "Here, drink it. That won't hurt you and help you to go through the rest of the night." He explained to the surprised wizards. Severus gratefully, drank it in one shot, closing his eyes tightly at the burning sensation that came with the alcohol and welcomed the distraction that it provided from the personal hell he was falling into. Harry sipped slowly the beverage, letting it spread its warmth and strength through his body and get back his stunned mind into awareness.

After this needed pause, five minutes later, Dumbledore broke once again the silence to announce that the rituals had to continue, explaining once again the causes and the description of the next part of their wedding. "There is still one spell that must be performed in order to make your link full and perfect. The soul binding spell may sound terrifying to you now, but it is a necessary step in the process that will lead to the fulfilment of the prophecy and of your destiny. It is for now an invasion of your ultimate privacy, of your deepest feelings and most secret emotions, but with time, it will become a tool of your happiness and your well-being. You will be forever aware of the presence of your spouse at the edge of your mind. You'll be open to each other, telepathically linked. For now, you'll see and experiment each other's strongest emotions. But soon, you'll learn how to strengthen the link in order to read each other thoughts, speak together, and transmit memories and sensations. It will be up to you to regulate it." Dumbledore patiently exposed what would become their future reality honestly, in a very professor like lecture mode. Giving them all the elements of it seemed better than offering them false reassuring lies to calm them in this testing time.

The time was an important factor in their success and Albus could not, once again loose it. His duty had forbidden it and was urging him to hurry them into this spell. But neither of the new spouses were eager to have it performed on them. Harry did not really know what this binding spell practically involved and what it would change in his life. He had had no time to make any research in the library about that... and he had been preoccupied with other concerns at the time.

But by the way Dumbledore had described it, this seemed a pretty powerful magic, something that could change totally his view on the man he had just married, the man he had not dared to talk to or even to look at since the moment Dumbledore had announced them the elements of the prophecy and their role in it, the man he had never understood, the man he was stuck with for ever. That could be useful, after all. That could even ease the things a little between them. That was with a little bit of curiosity, tainted with light apprehension and anticipation that he waited for the Headmaster to perform it and to feel the effects of it on himself.

For Severus, however, it meant only an insufferable intrusion in his privacy. The secret garden he had kept to himself for so many years to hide when under pressure or under attack, the place where no one could disturb him, where he was free and could relax, his mind would be invaded by an unwelcome presence. Potter would disturb the little tranquillity and peace Severus had managed to keep by sending him the storm of his feelings and emotions. And ten times worse, the boy would see his inner turmoil, would witness his failures, his most private pains and scars, would contemplate the depths of his unworthiness. Severus had no illusion left on himself... If his new `husband' was not yet totally disgusted by him, that would soon happen. Potter would then really hate him, no doubt. The prospect of being united forever with a monster like him would do that to anyone. At least, that should keep the boy...his husband at bay.

This little positive point, in Severus' opinion at least, wasn't enough to give him any real comfort. Unconsciously, he started to step away from Dumbledore's touch, stumbling backward to finally lean defensively against the farthest wall, an expression of horror and revolt mixed with terror clearly spread on his till then unreadable and blank face and his head shaking `no' violently. That was the last barrier of himself he had wanted to conserve and that was the first thing that would be taken from him. The mere thought of that spell was nauseating and repulsing.

Seeing this extreme reaction, Dumbledore moved carefully closer to the man he considered his child and refused to see suffering like this. Sighing deeply, he tried to find a way to sooth the wounded man before him into complying. These sorts of crisis were very rare with Severus, and were forgotten really quickly after they were resolved, Severus iron will would generally supply any necessary strength to the scared and frightened child who lived inside the man and force him into hiding once again. That would not be easy. The lighter physical contact would be rejected. Albus opted for the gentle calling of his name and the waving of his hand in front of Severus' glazed and lost eyes. After some time, Severus blinked finally and returned from his personal hell of terror and angst to finally notice Albus' attempts.

"Albus..." he whispered with a small and anguished voice, "I...can't. Not that..." Glancing past Albus, he saw Potter at the other side of the room, apparently curious, puzzled and embarrassed to witness the scene that was developing between the two older wizards, throwing small inquisitive glances at them while trying to let them some privacy. This mere vision made Severus straighten up and set back his resolute and firm expression on his face. He did not want to show anymore weakness to the one who could hurt him so much.

Taking advantage of this sudden change of attitude, Dumbledore used then the argument he knew would relieve a little of the tension and fears haunting Severus. "Severus, child, the soul bond is an absolute necessity. I'm sorry about that. But you will be able to block it, to build a wall to protect your privacy real soon, within minutes even. Just will the telepathic link to rest and it will. You'll be able to call it back whenever and if you need it. You don't need to share each other's emotions and thoughts 24 hours a day. Just will it to rest, just build a shield around your mental self and it will stop. I promise you, trust me Severus." Albus reassured him, his honest and caring eyes locked on Severus'. The message had gone through his last reluctance and he nodded his consent.

Turning around briefly, Dumbledore waved Harry to move closer and stand at his side, just face to face with Severus. This last emotional display had deeply impressed the newly wed adolescent. Once again, he had had a glimpse of the human behind the cold and unfeeling mask. His... husband... -the word was still very difficult to process and acknowledge for Harry- was as reluctant as he was himself. This image was so much in accordance with the description the Headmaster had done of his formerly hated teacher. That had only increased his resolve to be of assistance to the wounded and scared man his destiny had put on his way.

Dumbledore had noticed that it was already 10 PM. The child had to be conceived just before midnight, and that was only two hours away. There was no more time to waste. He had to start right now... Taking his wand, Albus touched it to Harry's forehead and then to Severus' and started then to build mental bridges between their mind, heart and soul, going back and forth between both of them and murmuring magic and powerful words "animae spiritusque eorum unum facti sint."

In only one minute and a half, the task had been completed. Their soul had been bonded. But for them, it was as if hours had gone away. When the first link had been opened, they had been invaded with each other's strongest emotions. The feeling was really confusing. They were at first unaware of the foreign origin of these new and overwhelming thoughts and emotions. Were they their own? Why would Harry feel suddenly so panicked, angry, self- loathing, disgusted and revolted? Why would Severus be moved with this apprehension, this anticipation tainted with pity, shyness, puzzlement and curiosity? Then they understood.

Harry was amazed and highly surprised. What? That was Severus Snape? This fragile, hurt, negative and passionate soul? And there was no hate toward him? Only a frightened expectation to be hurt once again? But why? That was not the man he had learnt to hate during all these years! But his musing were brutally interrupted when the flow of emotions stopped, leaving only the far impression of a presence near him, at the edge of his awareness.

Severus, overwhelmed by Harry's feeling was violently startled. Where he had expected disgust and horror, and hate aimed at him, Severus had only found some...kindness, curiosity and...pity toward him...and panic and apprehension only for the situation? What was that? Was the boy totally dense and blind, not aware of the monster Severus was? What was this illusion Potter had build about his husband? And PITY... Severus Snape was not used to this...and did not want it...No, this link had to be blocked, to STOP RIGHT NOW. This mental scream did wonders and the wall shielding his soul settled firmly to protect his privacy.

Blinking a few times and stumbling backward, Severus finally came back in the physical reality at the same time as Harry did. They both seemed a little dazed and stunned, slowly recuperating from this mind blowing experience under the caring and slightly worried gaze of their protector, Albus Dumbledore, who had helped them to sit side by side on the large couch he had pushed against the wall two hours ago. He waited patiently until 10:30 PM, hoping to see them react actively instead of sitting there, motionless. But then, he felt that, once again, the time was a treasure to precious to waste, considering that the new couple still had to consummate their wedding. Rushing this part would only be cause of a lot of emotional pain, after all. He chanted an "Enervate" spell that woke them completely. While Harry stayed at his spot on the couch, Severus jumped with surprise and quickly stood.

"Severus, Harry, all the rituals have now been performed dutifully. There is only one thing left to do: consummate your marriage and conceive a child before midnight. I know that it's difficult to accept for both of you but there is, once again, no way around it. If you both go into this willingly and as gently as possible, everything will be fine and much more bearable for both of you. I trust you, both of you" he said, with a meaningful glance aimed at Harry, as if saying, `remember what I told you, remember what you promised. Don't hurt my child'. "I'll leave you now. I'll see both of you tomorrow in the morning" He finally said before turning away and resolutely walking to the door.

Severus, whose heart and breathing had started to increase in rhythm and intensity, made a move to follow him to the door, maybe to grab a little more comfort from Albus. The old wizard felt him, turned around and took him in his arms, whispering in his child's ear "Everything will be fine, Severus. Trust me, I know. Don't worry, he won't hurt you. He isn't Voldemort. Trust me, child. I love you." He finally said, and walked through the door, after casting a shielding spell on the room.

Harry and Severus were left alone.

Chapter 10 : The Wedding Night.

Severus was still staring blankly at the door through which Dumbledore had left a few minutes ago. He stood frozen here, unable to turn around and face the boy he had just married. That was not even the question. Severus had been reassured and comforted by the presence of Albus, protecting and shielding him, but then, he had gone away and Severus was left alone with his duty...and his husband. The prospect of what was awaiting him in the next hour or so was sending shivers through his whole body. Submitting once again to that... to someone else, letting it happen willingly... the mere thought was disgusting and horrifying. He had never enjoyed a singular sexual encounter in his whole life. And that meant more than twenty years of experience. Of course, considering that his first, last... and only partner had been Voldemort and that he had never agreed to what had happened to him, even if, at the end, he did not fight it anymore, there was absolutely no chance that Severus' mind would be any different on this matter. His expectations were simple, really. Sex was violent, sex was filthy, sex meant being submitted, sex meant being hurt, sex meant losing control, sex meant becoming a toy for someone else to use, sex meant being made a little bit more each time like a piece of garbage.

This line of thoughts was not really made to encourage Severus into accomplishing his duty, far from it. Every few seconds, he had to fight the panic attacks that were threatening to engulf him. His breathing had gone nearly erratic, his eyes were unfocussed and his awareness of what was surrounding him was nearly absent. Waves of heat were overwhelming him, alternating with waves of cold. This very physical reaction to the situation had for a few minutes overidden his ability to think and not only feel and react. Then a final ball of fire travelled through him with such a force that it seemed thathe could no longer stand by himself. He stumbled forward, leaning finally against the door and resting his forehead against its cold wood. this contrast seemed to awaken him at last.

Enough with this weakness he seemed unable to hide from Potter tonight. What a shame. Severus had a duty, a mission to accomplish. His self loathing mixed with his reborn pride lead him into straightening up and getting a grip over the mess of his instincts. What was it that he had to do after all if not what he had already learned through hundreds or thousands times? Nothing new there. He knew it all, even had learned a lot about giving pleasure and degrading himself in a bed under his 'master'. That would not really be different. Maybe even less painful... physically at least. Potter was too young and too 'goody-two-shoes' to be yet an adept of pervert desires. 90% chance that he was a virgin, which meant that Severus would have at least some king of control on what would happen to him, for once, for the first time, even. Control. That was something, wasn't it?

Pleasure?...certainly not! If he could keep his instincts at bay and let the boy assault him, without fighting him, Severus would have won a battle. So thinking about pleasure...not very likely. Potter would get his animal pleasure in him. Severus would only do his duty, that was all. He had not to like it after all. There was not even any reason to ask this question... when had sex been about pleasure for him? That was not for him, not in the past and not in the present. The future? Why would anything change? No, he would lead the boy into doing his ...thing as quickly as possible. He knew how to arouse and excite men... Voldemort had his little whore well trained, after all. And Potter would have no chance... if he accepted his touch, at least. For the tenth time at least in a few hours, this thought came back to rub Severus' nose in the mud. He had no illusion about himself: a monster, an ugly monster, a tainted ugly and old monster. And Potter would feel attracted to this... thing that was Severus body? Not very likely... his sense of duty would not supply this flow, for sure. Poor kid... his first time would be... unforgettable...

It was now time to get the thing done. No way out and only one hour before the time of the conception would be passed. 'Calm down, Severus.' he encouraged himself ' One breath in and one deep breath out. Straighten up, find your confidence and your self control back. Okay? Now turn around and face him.' and with that, obeying his self admonishments, Severus found himself quickly closing the distance that separated him from the couch where Potter was still sitting, like frozen and the eyes lost only God knew where, and finally stood just in front of the boy, his...husband. The boy, the eyes unfocussed, pale and almost feverish looking, was the representation of a nervous and frightened wreck. That was not good, not at all. Severus would have to wake the boy from this state and interest him into the situation and his part in it... and quickly. Hell, that was not as if it was a mutual rape after all! They had both agreed to it. It would not be easy but what else could they do, what else could they expect?

In fact, Harry had once again lost his awareness of what was happening around him. At first, after Dumbledore had cast the Enervate spell on them, he had found himself sat just beside Snape. The closeness was a very new thing for him... for both of them, in fact. Not really a bad thing either. Only...surprising and strange. Not that he was comfortable with it, not really. Noithing to do with the man, or his physical presence at his side. No... if he had to be honest, he would have to admit that the warmth born from the contact of their shoulders, the subtle flagrance of mint and pine wood that went from the Potions Master to carress his nose, had bewitched him for a moment. But then, those enticing feelings had been brutally interrupted as Severus had fled, waking Harry definitely from what could only be an half-dreaming reaction. Finding something nearly pleasant in the Potions Master? not likely!

The following speech from Dumbledore, reminding them of what would come, had once again sent him in a world of nervousness where fidgetting on his seat was the only thing sensible to do. His first time. He did not know what to do. Oh, yes, theoretically, maybe. But all this knowledge had escaped his brain long ago, when he had entered these rooms, three hours ago, to be replaced by insecurity, apprehension and embarrassement. And now Dumbledore was reminding him to act gently.? Well of course he would not hurt anyone deliberately, except maybe Voldemort... and his uncle...and Dudley maybe. But definitely not his... husband on their wedding night. Did he look like a monster to the Headmaster? Really! And that was still not the problem. He would not hurt him... no.

But as it had started, he would not do him anything. His body and his mind seemed to rebell at the mere thought of... sexual relationship with the man in front of him. Just look at him. Snape did not want it either. That was obvious... following the Headmaster to the door, as if he wanted to go with him and leave Harry as far away as possible. And now, staring at the door, as if hoping it would open in front of him and let him out... Neither of them wanted it... Not that the man was so horrible per se. In all impartiality and honesty, if he had not known him for six years in so dire conditions, if he had just seen him in the street, Harry would maybe have given Severus a appraising look, like he had already done for some girls and boys in the past year or so. That was not the problem at all. No. But that was not really an ideal situation for desire to bloom between them. Very ideal, indeed. A little voice added sarcastically in his head. Dear God! Would this night ever finish?

Harry's mind then forgot all that was happening around him, folded on itself and lead the young man in torturous questioning and wondering: what should he do? What could he do? How would he handle it? Would he be as clumsy and idiotic as he expected to be? Would he have to do everything or would Snape lead him? what the hell would happen? This last question was excruciating swirling inside his mind, adding to his previous nervousness.

That was in this unresponsive, tense and fidgetting state that Severus found Harry a few minutes later. Sighing deeply, Severus resolved to wake the boy out of it and have a few necessary if unpleasant and slightly embarrassing words with him. Reaching out carefully, he slightly shook Harry's shoulder and stepped back immediately. Still no reaction. Severus tried it again, a little more forcefully, adding a clearly pronouced "Potter!". That had finally the hoped result as Harry flinched, blinked a few times and focussed his attention on the man looking down at him a few feet away.

The original reaction had not escaped the Severus' attention. The boy had flinched when he had touched him ever so lightly. That was really a bad sign. Potter could not even stand his touch. Well, what else to expect from a boy he had treated so badly for years now. That wouldn't do, not at all. Severus had to find a way to make Potter relax and to instill a little desire in him. And really soon, with that... Well, he was not a Potions Master for nothing.

Making his way to the left of the room, where a vials and bottles were lined up. Sorting carefully through them, he finally found the vials he was looking for. One large bottle, filled with a dark blue liquid, made to relax and calm the most nervous persons. And a small vial, like so many in which he was keeping his samples, where a light green powder, some rare and greatly magical licorn tree extract. Mixed with the first liquid, it would add an aphrodisiac power to the previous properties of the brew, and would make the boy receptive to suggestion for at least one hour, enough for them to do what they had to do. Pouring some of it in a glass, he carefully mixed the ingredients together, while starting finally to talk, his back still turned away from Potter.

" Listen, we both know that neither of us is really contented by the situation. Far from it, in my case. And I bet you feel the same... and I can perfectly see that you are no more at-ease than I am. "He started, establishing in clear words what was haunting both their minds. " But we are here for one thing and willing or not, we are going to accomplish it as our duty demands it. "

Finally turning away, now facing Harry, Severus closed the distance between them and handed the glass he was holding to the young wizard who was now slightly shaking. " Here, drink this. It will help you to relax a bit. You will need it if you want to be able to...perform. "

Harry looked warily at the mixture, this blue lagoon liquid in the glass he was now holding. He had kept a carefull and attentive gaze on every move Snape had made, working around the potions and seemingly mixing something in this particular moment. What the hell was he doing ? Suspicion and curiosity were fighting his nervousness and previous questionning mood. On a basic way, he could say that he trusted this man until a certain point. He knew he would most certainly not hurt him, or poison him. But what the hell was he doing ? Had he gone mad ?

Then the calm and almost muttered words that had reached his ears had reassured him a bit. At least, Snape seemed aware of his state of mind . That was as if an understanding of sort had been established, if precariously, between them. They were sharing the same doubts, the same pressure, and that was a very comforting feeling for Harry. That meant that maybe it would not be as difficult as he had feared it would. That they were two in this...that he was not alone... that maybe he could expect some kind of solidarity between them.

That was the reason he had accepted to take the potion he had been given and finally drank it. He trusted it was really something made out of some sort of sympathy and kindness and that would be a little helpfull in his situation. Soon enough, Harry felt his muscles rest a little, the shaking and the tension his nervousness had built to freeze his body were flowing away from him. Harry suddenly felt quite fine... relaxed.

These changes had also been noticed by the observant Potions Master. Yes. The boy was ready now... physically at least. And with a little reflection, Severus decided that it would also be the best way emotionally speaking for the boy to cope with what would happen this night. The recollection of that night would be one of pleasure and desire. Not of some horrible chore he would have to accomplish, nearly a mutual rape. Now, Harry would enjoy it and it was up to Severus to do his part in it... Maybe, a last hope... maybe the boy knew what to do...

" I assume that it will be your first time. Am I right ? " Severus asked cautiously and almost shyly to make definitely sure. That was not as if he was used to this kind of topic of conversation... especially in these circumstances.

Harry looked up sharply. He would have blushed if the potion had not already taken effect on him. Not that it was blurring his awareness in anyway. Not at all. Only he was so relaxed and at ease that it seemed difficult to accept any unpleasant feeling right now. After two seconds during which he studied Snape's face, trying to find there any hint of amusement or mockery aimed at him, but seeing none, he finally nodded.

With a deep sigh, Severus acknowledged the answer, confirming the truth he had already sensed . Some last few words to finish reassuring his virgin husband, and it would be time to move from words into acts. " You have nothing to worry about. It's perfectly normal that you don't know how to act. I'll lead you through this. " At least, with that, the suggestive state Harry was in would let him accept the fact that Severus would keep the control of their encounter.

Steeling himself, Severus checked the clock one last time to see it was already 11pm... definitely time to move. " Come on. It's time. Get up of this couch and follow me. " he ordered gently if firmly. Opening the wodden door on his left, he gestured Harry to enter the next room : his bedroom.

If Harry had had some observation skill left to him in this situation, he would certainly have wondered at the light and clearness of the room. A large fire place was sending a soft and warm light on the classical wooden furnitures, and first of all, on two comfortable armchairs set just in front of it. The walls, pannelled in pine wood that seemed to absorb all the coldness of the dungeons, were supporting only one painting, picturing a calm and apeasing natural landscape : hills, small fields enclosed by little stone walls, and on the left, the edge of a small wood. Oddly, the green and the silver colours he had been expecting from the head of the Slytherin house, were only present in the curtain of his four poster bed. The red and golden reflects of the fire were dancing on the whiteness of the beddings. All in all, this bedroom seemed able to create a very comfortable and warm atmosphere for its occupant. Severus doubted however that this haven would be able to appease him any on this night.

After pushing gently Harry to the centre of the room, just beside the bed, Severus took a few steps back, not willing to invade the boy's personal space and refusing to see his own crowded before it would be absolutely necessary. Walking to the door on his right, he turned toward Harry before opening it to reveal the adjoining bathroom. " I'll get changed in here. " he informed him, deciding that he did not want anymore embarassment and intimacy that was necessary, once again. He had not to humiliate himself that way... stripping in front of Potter and reveal his ugliness to this youth. " Meanwhile, you should get undressed and wait for me in the bed " he finally advised the boy before closing the door after him.

Once in the bathroom, Severus started to undress mechanically, undoing button after button of his black robe, finally shoving it off his shoulders and carefully folding it before putting it on a shelf. His wide black shirt followed the same way, leaving him half-naked in front of the small mirror hanging on the wall just above the sink. The dozens of little scars that were braking the continuity of the whiteness of his smooth skin of his chest and back were as many more than unpleasant and shameful memories. That vision was not one he could stand for a long time any day. And tonight was absolutely no exception.

Averting his eyes from this horrific vision that was, in his opinion, his body, Severus felt his resolve falter an instant. But that did not last long. Severus knew that the scars were there. for years he had known that. So why would he care about it right now? Because there was a chance that someone else would see them. If he excepted himself and Voldemort, of course. It couldn' t be that Severus was self-conscious and was searching for the approbation of Potter. That mere thought was ridiculous. Utterly idiotic. And after all, he had already decided that he would not let that chance to the boy. No way he would be naked in front of him if he could prevent it.

Steeling himself once more, allowing some degree of numbness to shield the frailest part of his soul, Severus went into a more mechanical and automatic mode that would permit him to act as necessary but not to feel the mental pain that would normally result from it. His body and cold mind would be there, having sex with his husband. But his emotions would be safe during that time. After that, that was another matter all together! This strategy was born from a long series of nights spent in Voldemort's bed where any sign of disgust or weakness meant some more abuse, both physical and mental. One more time. What would be the difference, really? He had survived all that. He would survive this as well.

Mentally prepared, Severus hurried to take off his shoes, trousers and underwear and to put on a long and wide white nightshirt. After he was sure that it covered his body from the neck to the ankles, he took a deep breath, grabbed a small vial he hid in one of his sleeves and opened the door and walked resolutely and assuredly into the bedroom.

Severus had expected to see Potter settled in the bed. No such luck. The boy was still slowly struggling with the buttons of his shirt in the middle of the room.

It seemed that the hypnotic effect of Severus' suggestion worked only when the man was still in Harry's presence. As soon as the door had been closed behind Snape, Harry had felt the nervousness flow back in him and freeze his every move. He knew somewhere that he had to undress but the will to accomplish this simple task had fled him with Snape gone in the bathroom. Lethargically, he had managed to take off his shoes and socks and to get out of his robe, now lying messily on the floor, at his feet. That's in this state that Severus found him when he came entered the room, his pants and shirt still on.

A certain level of impatience settled then on Severus who decided to take the matter in charge. He advanced on Harry, not too quickly so as not to startle him. Whispering a reassuring " let me ", when in reality a more sarcastic comment was occupying his mind, Severus lowered his hands gently on Harry's shoulders and let them slide lightly and slowly down the finely muscled arms, and finally pushed the boy's hands away from the front of his shirt to let them hang beside his body. This light touch accompanied by those calming words seemed to comfort Harry's trust into Snape and won the boy's silent acceptance of this ministration that had just began. The relaxing effect of the potion, no doubt.

Delicately, Severus started where Harry had left his task and undid the buttons left on the shirt. Once done, his hands came running lightly on the cotton, in a mix of light massage and slow caress all over the boy's chest, shoulders and arms, not yet daring to touch the skin just bellow, but awakening slowly Harry's sensuality and nerves sensitivity. This strategy seemed to work perfectly, as soft moans escaped the youth's lips and his eyes closed in an expression of wonder. This encouraged Severus to go on with his light touches, directly on the skin, this time. Each stroke, each feather like brush was helping Severus in his task of discarding slowly the boy's shirt: one cuff, one sleeve, one shoulder, then the other arm. And three agonising minutes later, the shirt was falling on the floor.

Severus was playing Harry's body masterfully, leading him surely where it needed to be. This strategy, had also another advantage for the older wizard: this would permit him to arouse his bed partner by touching him but without receiving himself the touch he dreaded to be submitted to. If he had his ways, Potter would not even touch him before it was absolutely necessary. That was something, at least: Severus was in control. He would loose the boy in physical joy and let himself escape from this encounter with the minimal contact possible. That was not Voldemort here. That was not this raping monster. The day had not yet come when the master would let him any kind of control.

With these first five minutes, Harry was already lost in a world of sensations, of pleasure and desire. Every inch of his upper body seemed assaulted with warmth and a river of extreme well being. Suddenly a wave of ecstasy exploded in him when Severus' fingers arrived to his sensitive and soon hardened left nipple and started to play with it while another hand was sensually caressing his neck and collarbone. Harry was now panting loudly. This last sensation had awakened a deep need in him while he felt his blood rush to his groin. Soon, the torturously pleasurable ministration going on this way, his desire increased exponentially and his pants seemed to get more and more painfully constricted.

Severus had also noticed Potter's state of arousal. Judging by the rhythm of the moaning and the laboured breathing, he decided it was time to take care of some other piece of clothing. Stroking the sides of Harry's body, Severus made his hands slide under Harry's waistband to settle for a few seconds on the boy's hips. When he received the desperate moan he was waiting for, Severus moved his hands to the front of the pants and lightly rubbed the bulge he found there through the layers of material for a few seconds, earning a cry from his more than pleased husband. The need had been transformed into an ache by now.

Severus took then the next step and ripped the button away, slide the fly down and let the pants fall on Harry's ankles, taking in the same move the boxers. This gesture which would have greatly disturbed the boy a few minutes ago, was now greatly welcome. This new freedom brought new moaning sounds. The boy was ready. Severus helped Harry to step away from his pants and led the naked boy to the bed where he made him lay. Sitting next to him, Severus took the small vial he had hidden in his sleeve, open it and let some of the oil it contained fall in his hands. Once he had warmed it, he slowly reached down and, caress after caress, alternating between light touch and firm moves, Severus coated Harry's erection with this lubricant.

The time had come. Severus had coldly, skilfully, mechanically and methodically brought Harry to the edge of madness and ecstasy. A little more and the boy would come. That was time to make his duty and submit to the now begging boy and let him have his pleasure in him. No time for hesitation, even if a dreadful feeling of panic and nervousness was now threatening to overwhelm Severus. He felt his body froze gradually and all his muscle tense in apprehension. But there was no place for hesitation right now, he thought and steeled himself once more for what would happen next.

Laying down on the bed, on his stomach, just next to Potter, his night-shirt now on his lower back, his hips lifted on a pillow, legs naked and wide open, Severus turned his head toward the boy and called him urgently. " Come here, boy. Take what you want. I know you are dying for it. " He said on his most suggestive and seductive tone in a low voice. He would have preferred to choke and die here and now instead of saying those humiliating and degrading words that were damning him to this semi-consented rape. But he knew that the boy would have no mean to resist them and that in a few minutes, everything would be finished at least.

Harry's reaction was immediate. The moment Snape had put his hand away and stopped his ministration, he had thought he would go mad of need and ache. And then, in front of his eyes now laid his husband, openly offered to him and his pleasure. The invitation was too tempting. His brain had already stopped functioning normally, but his physical needs were now leading his every move. He was beyond caring for any subtlety. Harry hurried to settle between Snape's legs and positioned himself at the small opening. In one long and nearly violent thrust, he buried himself completely in the tight and warm channel and started to move rudely and frantically in this heaven of sensuality and ecstasy.

Severus, his face buried in a pillow, and his hands violently closed in tight fists around the sheets, was fighting with himself to stay still and passive under what both his mind and his body considered as an aggression. The physical pain he felt when the first thrust tore him apart was nothing compared to the excruciating return of the torturous memories. Severus had to repeat mentally a mantra to keep himself from falling apart: " Potter, your duty, not Voldemort. Potter, your duty, not Voldemort. ". He had found no other way than biting the soft fabric under his mouth to prevent his screams from escaping his lips, bearing witness of his emotional injuries and his more real pain.

That was nothing he had not lived through before and he had made everything for it to happen like that, in such a brutal and urgent way. No reason to complain. The pain was common to him. He could perfectly live with it for a few more moments. At least, it would not last very long now. A few more thrusts and Potter would spend himself in Severus. This mere thought sent shivers of disgust and anticipation through Severus body. Fortunately, the contraction of muscles that resulted from this instinctive reaction increased the pressure exerted on Harry's cock and sent the boy over the edge in an explosion of pleasure and breathtaking satisfaction. With a last thrust, Harry buried himself inside Severus and poured his seed in the depth of his husband's body.

On this instant, the most intense and maybe the happiest moment of his life, Harry, still shaking in ecstasy and covered in sweat, felt his arms give way under his weight and, now unable to lift himself, landed on Severus back, his head against the man's neck. In an unconscious gesture, he tried to kiss the skin just under his lips, his husband throat and jaw and then his lips. But a violent shudder from Severus, for whom these marks of intimacy, and even affection maybe, constituted an absolutely repelling intrusion in his emotional safety, dislodged him brutally. Slipping out of the warm haven of his husband, Harry finally fell on the bed, just beside Severus and, exhausted, was blissfully asleep seconds after his head had reached the pillow.

Severus of course, did not share the same contentment. Lying still for a few seconds, trying to straighten up, pulling down his nightshirt around his body, he was interrupted by a sudden shock. In one second, his body was surrounding by a glowing fire that disappeared as soon as it had come into life. There was no error in the translation of this sign. It was now midnight, and the fertilisation had just happened. Severus was now pregnant.

This realisation and the pain and stress of the past hour, mixed with his emotional distress, and his self loathing, pushed Severus out of the bed as efficiently as if some giant troll had dragged him away, and into the refuge of the bathroom. The bedroom had become for now a room where revolting events had occurred and Severus had only one urge in his panicked brain: escape and lock himself away from it. He felt dirty. Submitting willingly to this sexual encounter, his passivity, his capacity to arouse so skilfully made him feel like a whore. It was so similar to those many occasions when he had let Voldemort have what he had wanted without even trying to resist. Two months ago again. Severus felt worthless, humiliated, tainted and filthy.

What he needed right now was to wash away all this filth that was covering his body. His and dirt had contaminated all the places he had been touched and all the place he felt. Jumping into the tube, Severus placed himself under the spray of burning water. For dozens of minutes, scratching and scrubbing and scrubbing his skin clean from the imaginary grime, uncaring for the abrasions he was leaving on his chest and thighs. Nervous spasms were now and then travelling through his body and tears of rage and anger were rolling down his cheeks. Maybe at a time or another, he even let his mental shields slip for one moment. At least, Potter, still asleep, would not be aware of it and understand the turmoil of row emotions he was receiving. That was something positive, at least. Perfect. Let the boy keep his illusions about this night. Enough of one person suffering because of it, after all.

One hour after, the water had become a little colder and Severus felt a little better, cleaner, more relaxed and calmer. He finally walked out of the tube and dried himself with a large and warm towel and quickly dressed into his usual and comforting black robe. He was now ready to step away from this precarious refuge and step back into the bedroom, his mask of dignity and coldness firmly on his face.

Opening the door, Severus saw that Potter was still sleeping, sprawled naked on the bed. This sight sent a cold shiver into the Potions Master, the picture of the past events once again replaying in his mind. One thing was sure: Severus wanted to be left alone in his private quarters. He wanted Potter to go as soon as possible. His mere presence was unsettling and unnerving to say the least. And to be coldly logical, the boy could not spend the night here. That would raise way too much suspicion in Hogwarts, among both students and teachers.

His decision made, Severus walked resolutely to the bed, shook Harry's shoulder and called him loudly enough to wake him immediately. " Wake up! Come on, Wake up! ".

His only answer for a few moments was a groan. Then, Harry's eyes opened slowly in a confused and then inquistive soft glance directed to his husband. " What ? What time is it? Morning already? " He managed to mumble clearly enough.

" It's one in the morning, in fact. But you can't spend the night here. That would raise too many questions if noticed. Do you understand? " Severus explained in a cold and logical voice. When he saw Potter nodding his understanding, he went on with his orders "You'd better get dressed and run back in your dorm and finish the night in your own bed. You'll tell them I kept you in your detention for a longer time than usual. I think they won't be too surprised by that explanation. " On these words, Severus walked away to the door where he made a short pause to add " And don't forget to come to me back here tomorrow before breakfast. There are still some spells that need to be done ".

With that, he left the room, Potter and his recent memories behind and went and locked himself in his office. He had not wanted to be in his husband's presence for one more second. When he returned to his bedroom, one hour later, there finally was no one left here to torment him. The sight of the bed was still disturbing. Severus could not find the strength to sleep in the same sheets where he had been impregnated a few hours earlier. On a whim, he finally cast a spell on these sheets and sent them in the hearth where, settled comfortably in one of the armchairs, he watched them burning and being destroyed slowly, and finally fell asleep around 2: 30 AM.

Chapter 11: the morning after

Harry opened his eyes very slowly, on this Monday morning, a smile still lingering upon his lips and brightening his whole face. God, what a dream! A weird dream, maybe, but so real, so... present, but a dream never the less. The details of this dream were slowly coming back to him one by one, like memories... Something absolutely impossible and totally mad... a prophecy, a wedding, this trip in someone else's mind, and the wedding night... oh yeah, the wedding night... Those hands all over his body, so perfectly knowing how to make him feel in heaven. This body offered to him so freely "take what you want", this voice softly inviting him. This sensuality spreading slowly in his body... this pleasure building up and exploding in a climax of pure ecstasy... Wow, what a wonderful dream... what a fantasy...

The confusion of this state between sleep and full consciousness found Harry still tingling with bliss and sensual delight. Sleep gradually slipped from his mind and body. In a lazy gesture, he lifted his left hand to push the lock of hair that was annoyingly falling in his eyes, and lightly scratched his forehead in the process. What? Where did that come from? Slowly lowering his hand in front of his eyes, Harry stared blankly at the origin of his previous discomfort... a ring... a wedding ring. Dear God! That was not a dream! That had been real, the whole thing! He was married and, a few hours ago, had just left the bed of his husband, of... Severus Snape.

Getting out of his bed, slipping in his robe and walking slowly toward the Gryffindors' bathroom, stepping under the shower, soaping, rinsing, drying and dressing himself were actions simple and mechanical enough for Harry to accomplish without having to put his mind away from the disturbing thoughts and recollections that were haunting him. It was lucky for him that he had woken so early. The Gryffindor tower seemed still totally asleep. His blank expression and his unfocussed eyes would have worried any of his schoolmates and friends who would have seen him in this state of confusion. The silence and the calm of the room were helping him going through those reflections freely.

That too had been real? He had drunk a potion meant for relaxation, as Snape had told him... and then, this river of pleasure and desire had assaulted him. All that, given to him by Snape. When it had happened, he had been in a strange state of awareness. There had been only two things that had mattered then: his desire and Severus' hypnotic voice. Nothing could have gone between himself and those two things. And the night had been incredible, absolutely and utterly wonderful. But now that he could add a little reasoning to this recollections, a few details had taken a new importance...

On the previous night, Harry had not been surprised by anything. He had been very accepting of everything that had occurred between himself and Snape. But now, when he was remembering it, he could barely recognise the man who had acted so selflessly and... kindly toward him, who had been tender and gentle without even asking anything from him, who had made the night so easy to live through for him when a few hours earlier Harry had been utterly nervous and terrified. That was not the man he had learnt to know for years as his Potions Master and hated teacher. That was not the same monster, cruel and cold toward him. The last and most meaningful proof that there was really someone else behind the mask of the nasty teacher, Severus, the enigma, the human being, behind the Deatheater, behind Professor Snape.

And Headmaster Dumbledore had warned him about that. He had told Harry about Severus' horrible past and life, his courage and his ability to sacrifice himself to help the Light and those he loved, to help Dumbledore against Voldemort, to protect Harry and all the students by spying on the Dark Lord. He had described a real hero, but also a deeply scarred soul and a suffering human being. Maybe Harry had not really believed in the deepest part of his unconscious mind, that the man Dumbledore was speaking about was the same that the Severus Snape he knew. But the way Severus had acted a few hours sooner...

And he had made Harry promise he would not hurt his child... that he... wouldn't... hurt... Severus... God! He had not hurt him, had he? Harry could perfectly remember every caress he had received, every exquisite move he had made. But there was absolutely no recollection of him returning the tenderness he had received. Not once. He had not even tried to give back what he was offered so selflessly. That had been totally one sided. God, he had been so selfish. The narcissic Mister Potter... that was really him after all. Not once during their wedding night he had even asked himself about what Sn..Severus was feeling. And then, he had taken what was offered without any question, without any care... only his selfish desire and pleasure.

Harry was disgusted with himself, even more so when the picture of this particular moment came back to him. He remembered Severus fists clenching around the sheets, the deep intake of air, the shudders he had felt under the night-shirt, like silent sobs, the way Severus had rejected all physical contact with him as soon as he had tried to kiss his way from his neck to his mouth during his climax... Dear God, he had really hurt him... And Severus had let him do that, doing nothing to protect himself, letting Harry have his perverse and violent ways with him, but when all had been finished, he had fled his touch, surely disgusted by the boy who had treated him so carelessly and brutally.

What a jerk Harry had been! And he had promised Dumbledore he would be careful. What an awful jerk! And now he had to get back to the dungeons, to face both Severus and Dumbledore, to feel the weight of their accusing glares on him, and that would be only justice. Surely Severus would have told everything to the Headmaster by then. Or most certainly, he would not say a word about that to anyone, just as Severus had not once complained during last night. And that would be even worse. Harry's guilt would go on torturing him... To apologise...

what good would it make now that all was done. No, Harry would have to confess his unforgivable behaviour to the Headmaster and to make it up to Severus, one way or another.

Harry was interrupted in his self-loathing conclusions by a very familiar voice that startled him out of this hell. He was now in the Common Room and a seemingly worried Hermione was waving her hand in front of his eyes, as if she had tried to get his attention without success for at least two or three minutes. By the amount of parchments and books open on a nearby table, it was clear that the top-student had been here studying for some time now. This particular habit she had started during her third year, was now, three years later, as common as the sun rising each morning. Harry should have known that he would find her awake at this hour, when all the other Gryffindors were still enjoying their last minutes of sleep before the shoolday would begin.

"Harry!" She was calling gently if insistently. "Can you hear me, Harry?"

"Huhhh..." was the elaborate answer Harry managed to give her, not really helping her into believing that he was in a normal state of consciousness.

"Harry, are you really fine?" she asked softly, seeing that his pale face and his tired and sad eyes were indeed a very weak proof of his well-being.

"Fine, Hermione, just a little tired." Harry told her finally, passing his left hand on his forehead, as if to wipe away his concerns and troubles. "Don't worry about that. Sev...Snape kept me up late last night, with...eh...the detention...eh... cleaning the cauldrons and all that... you know..." He hurried to give her the excuse they had agreed to tell anyone who would ask.

But Hermione had barely listened to this explanation. Her eyes and attention had been caught by the glitter of something, some metal or some jewel, at Harry's hand, something she had never noticed before, something that had to be new. Following the moving hand until it stopped, she recognised the form of a splendid ring, which design was really interesting... and a little familiar, as if she had already seen it somewhere, in a book, maybe. The information would come back to her soon enough. A red lion on a yellow bed...

"What do you have on your left hand, Harry?" she couldn't stop herself from asking, her curiosity and hunger for knowledge and mysteries taking the lead in her mind.

It seemed however that this question was unwelcome, at best. Harry glanced down to his hand and slid it quickly in his pocket, a very embarrassed look on his face. "That, oh... it's nothing..."he dismissed the inquiry brutally and made a step toward the exit of the Common Room and of the Gryffindors' tower. "Look, I have to go. Snape took my wand yesterday and I forgot to ask it back when I left the dungeons last night. I have to get it back before our first class in the morning. My talents in Charms would not be very appreciated without it."He lied, happy to be able to come up with a reasonable enough explanation to escape from Hermione and her sharp mind "See you at breakfast! Bye!" He said finally and left the room and a very bewildered and concerned Hermione.

In another part of the castle, Dumbledore was reaching for his pot of Floo Powder in order to travel to the dungeons and Severus' private quarters as secretly possible. The night had not been the most pleasant for the old wizard. He had not really been able to rest and sleep soundlessly. Worry about his child and what was happening to him in the depths of the castle had been keeping him awake and fidgeting for long hours. And when exhaustion had made him close his eyes, around three in the morning, the cries of his child had haunted his dreams and woken him suddenly and feverishly numerous times.

Morning had finally come, and with it the time to go and see his child. To make sure he was fine or at least to be there for him in the case he would need it. To put an end to the torture of not knowing if Severus was hurt, physically or more likely mentally and emotionally. Last night, it had taken a major effort to leave the newlyweds alone and let them have some privacy for what needed to be done. He had known that it would be a difficult time for both of them, especially for Severus, and leaving him to this situation had been heartbreaking. And once again, Albus would be there to comfort his child, when he had been unable to protect him.

Throwing a handful of the magical powder in the fire, Dumbledore stepped into the hearth and stated his destination: "Severus' private quarters". One nanosecond later, the old wizard stepped out of the hearth of Severus' sitting room. Dumbledore had been careful not to arrive in Severus' bedroom, which would have certainly brutally startled the younger man. Severus had always been so eager to protect his privacy, to never show himself as defenceless or weak, or at least what he considered being so. And seeing him asleep or in the process of getting dressed entered definitely in these last categories. And Albus felt that today especially, Severus would want to regain some of the control he had abandoned on the previous night.

Albus had resolved he would only knock on the bedroom door and wait for Severus to let him in. But when, upon stepping out of the hearth, he heard a painful moan and a shaking cry of "no", this decision had vanished instantly. In the next second, Dumbledore, the father terrified for his child's safety, hurried to the door and nearly slammed it open in his impatience to get to his Severus and see what was wrong with him. His eyes were frantically searching in the dimly lit room, no one on the bed, no sound coming from the bathroom, no sound at all, in fact. This silence was really frightening, heavy with the eventuality of the worst tragedies possible.

The same moan was heard once again, coming from the left corner of the room, near the fire-place, from one of those armchairs, facing the last embers of the fire that had burnt here all night long. In three long steps, Albus was standing in front of it and finally discovered Severus, settled in the large armchair, sleeping here restlessly. His face was contorted in a frightened and pained expression born from the nightmare that seemed to keep him prisoner in its horror. His hands, clenched desperately to his robes in tight fists were slightly shivering. Some pearls of sweat were rolling down his cheeks, as if they were tears. Some of the most painful memories of the young wizard were haunting him once again no doubt.

This sight was nothing new to Albus. How many times had he seen the tortured child drowning in his past at night, unable to escape in unconsciousness the injuries and pains of his life? How many times had Albus hoped that it would be the last time, that Severus would soon get a happier and easier life? And how many times after that the exact same scene had started anew, after traumatic visits to Voldemort or Deatheaters meetings? Each time it was more heartbreaking than the previous time. Never, no, never would Albus get used to it and witness those suffering moments with a blank face and a cold heart.

Kneeling in front of the distraught sleeping man, Albus gently reached out his hand to Severus' shoulder and gently shook him awake. "Severus... Severus", he called softly, determined to let him know that he was not alone in his hell but there was someone here to care for him and always protect him.

"Noooo... Please... my lord... not tonight... no" Severus however seemed so deep in his private hell that Albus' gesture and voice had gone totally unnoticed. Infuriated, Dumbledore could only guess what the nightmare, the memory, was about. And that was definitely something he would have never wanted to hear. Voldemort and his `particular attentions' toward his personal servant. That had to end, this mental torture had to end right now.

With a wave of his wand and a muttered `Enervate', Severus awoke brutally, his eyes suddenly wide open and still filled with disgust and terror, totally ignorant of the presence of the Headmaster in the room, just two or three feet away from him. He was for a few seconds lost and panicked, barely managing to distance himself from the torture he had just left inside Morpheus' realm. Soon enough, however, his eyes focussed on the familiar and cherished face.

"Albus" he whispered, half stating, half asking, still a bit confused by this brutal wake up.

"Yes, child, it's me. Don't worry. You are safe here, at Hogwarts, your bedroom." Albus comforted him, with the sweetest voice, while his hand tentatively drew the slightly shaking man into the hug they both needed to reassure themselves, Severus that he was not going to be violated once again, and Albus that his child was finally safe in his arms.

Meanwhile, Harry had arrived at the entrance of Professor Snape's private quarter and already knocked a few times at the door, as softly as he could in order to leave his visit to the Potions Master as secret as possible. The hallways, still mainly empty at this early hour, were however starting to get some animation, in this particular section of the dungeons, leading from some of the dormitories to the Slytherins bathrooms. If he had to trust his ears, Harry would soon be joined by a group of Slytherins students who could not be very far from him now. And no one had answered the door yet, and soon, his visit would be discovered, bringing with it a few unwelcome questions.

Manoeuvring frantically the doorknob, in the hope that it would erase the last obstacle to discretion, Harry was lucky enough that the door finally cracked open, just in time to let the teenager enter unnoticed by the groups of students that were now passing in front of the hurriedly closed door. One glance around in the room, the same sitting room where, not twelve hours earlier, he had been married to his teacher, revealed that he was alone in here. No sound from anywhere. No sign of the place where Snape could be.

Quite embarrassed by the situation, Harry resigned himself to call with a muttered voice, not likely to catch the attention of anyone who would be listening in the hallway, "Is there anyone here? Professor?". But he received no answer. Harry felt quite nervous at the idea of staying alone in this place for a long time, waiting for an eventual acknowledgement of his presence, and yet not really ready to disturb the peace and tranquillity of the man he had just hurt a few hours ago. Finally deciding for the Gryffindor way, Harry decided to try the bedroom and walked toward the slightly opened door.

The sight that welcomed him here froze him in the spot, just behind the door. Headmaster Dumbledore was there, recognisable by his long white beard, slowly rocking in his arms a black long form that had to be Severus, talking to him gently and rather quietly, nearly too softly for Harry to hear what was said. It was clear enough that Dumbledore was in the process of comforting the suffering man.

A wave of guilt and renewed embarrassment washed over Harry who felt definitely ill at ease and out of place in this scene. Wasn't he the one who had brought this pain to Severus after all? He decided to let the two older wizards a little privacy, and consequently to delay his intrusion in their really emotional and intimate moment. Stepping back in the sitting room, he did not dare close the door behind him, fearing to reveal his presence. If he could no longer see Dumbledore and Severus, he could not prevent himself from eavesdropping their following conversation.

In the bedroom, still ignorant of Harry's presence in the sitting room, Severus had finally stepped away from Albus' comforting embrace. This display of weakness had certainly been long enough, even if Severus had no more of this kind of second thought with Albus. For more than twenty years, he had been his only real family, the only one he trusted totally, the only one he would ever confide in, the only one he would show himself to, with his shields down. But pride and a instinctive sense of self conservation always came in-between to interrupt those rare times Severus would let himself be really himself.

With years of this type of relationship with his child, Albus was no longer surprised to see Severus recovering so quickly from his state of distress, straightening up and setting back a blank, controlled and determined expression on his face. It was time to change the subject and come back to the matters he had come down to the dungeons to take care of.

"Severus, will you let me scan you ?" he asked gently if firmly. Receiving a nod as his only answer, he slowly passed his wand over Severus' abdomen and stomach, stopping there for a few seconds, with a serious look of deep concentration. Smiling slightly finally, when he had found out what he was looking for, this little sparkle of warmth and light that seemed to shine in Severus' aura, he stepped back.

"Well?" Severus asked, only mildly interested, or at least wanting to appear this way. A little nervousness was however well hidden behind this cold inquiry.

"The sparkle of life is here, Severus. You are pregnant." Albus confirmed what Severus already knew instinctively. But this time, there was no doubt left. The situation was real... may be too real, even. There was a difference between knowing that you had to fulfil your destiny and having it in the process of being accomplished, between accepting the idea of a wedding and of the pregnancy, and knowing, and even feeling that a life had been created and would develop in his own so hated body. The feeling was overwhelming in its immensity and yet so much terrifying. Severus' only desire for now was to forget about this same pregnancy, to do and act as if it even did not exist.

"Well, of course. I gave your precious Mister Potter a lust potion to make sure he kept to his part of the bargain. I couldn't expect him to show any desire toward me without it. And I dare say that at least he won't keep any bad memories of this night." Severus reported, as if he had just accomplished an assigned mission and explained the results to his officer. Some part of defensive sarcasm had been introduced in it, maybe to alleviate the clear meaning of the words.

Albus had well understood what had been hidden behind it however. `At least he'... `a lust potion'... Albus had hoped that Harry would have taken the lead and be careful and gentle with Severus. But this last hope was now dead. With a lust potion, it was very unlikely that Harry had had enough brain left to act on his promise. No. Severus most likely had pushed Harry into doing it as quickly and therefore harshly as possible to be freed from this hated and terrifying duty. His poor child. A look of fury and despair, tainted by the saddest shadow of a heart breaking, shown in his eyes at this realisation. When would his child be left alone? When the hell would he be able to be happy? Fighting the tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes, Albus finally sighed and decided resolutely to cast these depressing thoughts away, for now at least.

During this confession, Severus had turned away and closed his eyes, trying maybe to flee this last humiliation and to hide his shame and feelings from the wise and old eyes that were so carefully and affectionately fixed on his. When he opened them, maybe one minute later, it was to see Albus waving his wand over him and muttering some charm repeatedly for a few more seconds.

"I've just cast a protecting spell on you and the baby. It will be present for the whole time of your pregnancy." Albus explained matter-of-factly. "It will allow you to live through a few magical or physical assaults. But the intensity of the shield will not resist a prolonged attack. Then, it will be your choice to concentrate the full effect of the protection on yourself or on the baby. Believe me when I tell you that I hope wholeheartedly that this spell will not be needed." Albus was not nave... far from it. He knew that the enemies of the Light would be there to try to prevent the birth of the new Protector. And if, God forbid, Voldemort, one way or another, was to learn that the time of the prophecy had come or the identity of the two parents, any protection and shield would be indeed useful... they could only hope ...

In the sitting room, it seemed that each word Harry had heard had been painful or at least quite upsetting. The confirmation of the pregnancy had been quite a shock to the teenager. That was it, he was a father-to-be. Unknown by either of them, Harry and Severus had the same reaction to this piece of news. It was suddenly too real. And such a responsibility... Nearly a child himself and he would have a child soon... or Severus would have their child. But the result was the same. He felt charged with a mission, a sacred duty to his... husband and unborn child. He would have to be there for them... and if he had any power, he would make sure that the protecting spell would never be needed.

Maybe Harry had no tender feelings for his... husband, but that did not mean that he would abandon him cowardly in such a dangerous time and in this delicate condition. In those short two days, he had come to see him in a very new perspective and to respect him as a human being... Hell, Severus had shown more generosity and attention to him than he had ever expected to receive from him.

And he had willingly suffered to give Harry the chance to have a decent wedding night. Hearing the few sentences from Severus coldly admitting to Dumbledore that mere truth had been devastating. His chest tightened painfully under the blow it represented. A way of presenting the facts so mechanical and cold... And it was now clear that Severus had not been willing to let him a chance to act properly, to show that he could have been trusted... A sparkle of anger rose in Harry at that revelation.

But soon, a new wave of guilt had threatened to overwhelm him once again. Harry had let it happen and did not even try to act as he should have. Hell, he had hurt Severus, hurt him... He hadn't known, he had been quite nave and innocent, but that was no excuse for his actions. How difficult would it had been to be more careful, to be a little bit more human... to be for once responsible... And then, thinking about that, Harry had realised the sacrifice he had been offered by the man in the next room. It was priceless, it was more than generous... it was... a selfless and beautiful act. And now, Harry could not help but feel he was deeply indebted to Severus for that.

Waking from this determined reflection a few seconds later, Harry decided to end his embarrassing eavesdropping and finally enter the conversation. He was needed after all, for the last spell. And to be honest, Harry felt that the revelations he had heard in a few minutes were quite hard to take in and receiving more right now would not do wonders for his nervousness and his already shattered peace of mind.

Moving quickly to the door separating Severus' quarters from the rest of the dungeons, Harry opened it quietly and suddenly slammed it close, pretending he had just entered the sitting room in a hurry. "Professor" he called rather loudly to make sure that his presence was noticed and acknowledge this time. And sure enough, Severus, who had briefly shivered at the sound of this voice before quickly fixing his neutral mask on his face, and Headmaster Dumbledore were stepping out of the bedroom to meet Harry in the sitting room.

"Sorry for entering like that. I knocked, I swear, but it seems you didn't hear me and I could not stay in the corridor anymore. A group of Slytherins students were coming my way..." he started babbling to explain his intrusion, nervous, not quite because of this rudeness, but more likely for his lie and deception.

"Don't worry, Harry, we understand!" Dumbledore reassured him. His instinctive reaction, at seeing Harry, the person who had caused his child's distress, here, standing in front of him had been to cast him a furious glare. But soon enough, the realisation that Harry's responsibility in the matter was more than questionable, as well as the vision of the boy's nervousness, had calmed him totally. Beside, his anger would not make the things any better. His smile back in his eyes, he resolved to try and put Harry at ease, as much as possible, at least. "We were waiting for you as a matter of fact."

That statement did not really alleviate Harry's embarrassment at being in his... husband's presence, so soon after the events of the previous night. It had reawakened his uneasiness. It seemed quite difficult, if not impossible to meet Severus eyes right now. That was once again the fierce, cold and proud professor in front of him, the blank facade, his head high, his back straight and his attitude strict, no longer the man he had seen with Albus not two minutes ago. And Harry could only send guilty and apologetic glances to him and the Headmaster. The more he was here, the more he felt he had failed and hurt both of them.

"Anyway, it's time to perform the Secret Keeper Spell to protect the discretion of the wedding and of the pregnancy. All visual sign of it, the rings, your growing belly, Severus, will be glamoured, and only visible by the three of us and the persons you will choose to share this secret with. I hope that neither of you have any objection at me being your secret keeper?" After both Severus and Harry had shaken their heads `no', Albus motioned them to the centre of the room. "Very well! We'd better start right now, if we want to be at breakfast on time". He added.

Once again, a magical pentagram was drawn on the floor and the three wizards stepped in it, taking the exact same positions they had taken on the previous night, during the wedding and the binding ceremonies. "Let's join our hands"Dumbledore ordered them. Once obeyed, little silken ropes began to run around their hands until the link was firmly maintained by an intricacy of threads covering their skin.

"Secretum vestrum in me conservatum sit" Dumbledore started to chant.

"Secretum nostrum in te conservatum sit. In fidelitate tua confidemus" Harry and

Severus chanted the ritual answer of the Secret Keeper spell.

"I swear to protect and to keep the secret of your wedding and of your pregnancy. May all signs of it be hidden from all human beings, muggles or wizards". With this solemn promise, the spell had been activated and the threads had disappeared in a blinding light. To everyone's eyes, now, the rings at their fingers did not even exist anymore, nothing about either Severus or Harry had changed or would change in the following months. As far as anyone but the three of them could tell, nothing had ever happened to either of them.

With the end of the spell ended the necessity of Harry's disturbing presence in Severus' private quarters and that was a fact that Severus was well aware of. The Potions Master had absolutely no desire to be in the boy's presence. The memories of the previous night, of his humiliation, of his display of weakness, were too present at the front of his mind to let the sight of Potter be as neutral and inoffensive as it used to be. As soon as he had entered the room, Severus had assumed his mask and determinedly kept his eyes away from the boy, as if nothing had ever happened between them, as if he did not suffer from it. He had not even talked to him, or make any of his usual cruel and mocking remarks. He had merely ignored him... or appeared to do so. But now that all was finished, he would not suffer his presence any longer.

"Headmaster, Potter, you should go to the Great Hall for breakfast. It's already a quarter past seven. If you don't want your absence to be noticed, you'd better hurry. I'LL follow you in a few minutes". He told them and lead them to the door, waiting there for them to walk away and finally leave him alone, for a few minutes at least, before his first obligations of the day would begin.

Chapter 12: A Day Just Like Any Other

That Monday in Hogwarts was like any other Monday. Really. There were the same people doing the same things as they should, having breakfast then lunch then dinner at their usual spots, surrounded by their friends, going as usual to their classes, listening to their teacher's lessons for hours, taking notes and experimenting with the practical aspects of Transfiguration, Potions, DADA or Charms, doing their homework or meeting in the library, training for quidditch or merely walking in the still warm autumn sun, playing chess in the common room, chatting and joking with classmates, commenting on the hard day's work and the qualities of each professor, and finally retiring in the dorm where sleep would win the battle against their consciousness. Really, it was a normal Monday in Hogwarts. For most students and teachers, at least. The world was no longer that simple for Harry Potter. Of course, his body and a little part of his brain were still going through this routine as usual. But the most part of his attention was not really on it. His mind was wandering on other subjects that would greatly surprise his classmates and the majority of the staff. Oh, he tried from time to time to pay attention to his friends, his teachers and the lessons, or even to what was on his plate, but his mind was always dragged back to his new-found preoccupation: Severus Snape, his teacher, his husband, the man he had slept with, the man he had hurt, the man he was indebted to, the man who was... carrying his child. Harry would have liked to get back to his normal life, his simple and carefree life, the one he had left behind... what was it... oh, yes! few hours ago only... Since the meeting this morning, in Severus' quarters, and his little spying session, Harry had a very difficult time trying to process the new aspects of his existence. Harry had to act and live as if nothing had ever happened, at least, when he was in public. That was what he had been told, for both their security. And to be honest, that solution was seductively easy. To simply erase the events of the past day and their consequences. Erase them from the reality, and best, erase them from his memory. Sure enough, Severus would want him to follow this simple idea... and let him be. But Harry did not quite see the things this way... the Gryffindor personality, maybe... or more likely the sense of duty and the concern of someone who has just realised that he had somehow to take care of his... family.

And so his day was spent in the routine that constituted his life for the past five years. He sat with Ron and Hermione at breakfast, filled his plate, started to eat without putting much spirit in it, managed to pay attention to the conversation and even take some part in it...and yet he could not help but turn his eyes to the staff table to see if Severus had arrived, and then, to watch him worriedly once again play with his food without even eating any of it once. He re-read at the last minute a Charm essay he had to give to Professor Flitwick on his first class, and yet, as his eyes followed mechanically the lines of his own handwriting, it seemed that no word had registered in his brain. Instead, he was continuously fingering the ring he had received the previous night, his thoughts pulled once again toward his new preoccupation. This little metal thing, these jewels no one could see, now at least, except himself, Severus and Dumbledore and that symbolised his new destiny... and his duties... toward his wedding, his husband and his future family. Ten minutes after, he tried to listen enthusiastically to Ron reading to him from the newspaper the report of the last Quidditch Match, France vs England, played on that weekend... Quidditch, his favourite subject, his passion, his hobby... And when he saw in the corner of his eyes Severus getting up and storming out of the Great Hall, followed by his billowing black robes, the horrible English defeat (80-250) was forgotten. Once again, Harry's eyes narrowed upon the leaving figure and took a dreamy and concerned look as soon as the form of Severus had disappeared behind the high doors. His first instinct, the same one that had lead him into the Gryffindor's house, was the direct way... To get up and run after him to try and repair the mistakes and injuries he had caused. To confront the man and straight away apologise and offer him his help and support. Sure Harry was still ill-at-ease with the whole situation, but the words and sobs he had eavesdropped earlier this morning were still torturing his conscience.

Harry made the first move to do what he had unconsciously decided when his eyes caught the discreet sign from Dumbledore who had been, as it seemed, watching him for such a reaction, and was slightly shaking his head. Sighing deeply, Harry obeyed this direct order and settled back at the table, and resumed the pretense of interesting himself with the routine of the day. The morning classes were no better than breakfast. At least, the practical exercises in Transfiguration and Charms permitted Harry to focus his mind on something else. Concentrating his magic on this little mouse and turning it into something as complex as a clock is really tricky if you don't pay attention to what you are doing. And sending a sleeping spell on his guinea pig, namely Ron Weasley, could be dangerous if you are distracted. The Care of Magical Creatures had even alleviated considerably his mood. The happy and cheerful company of Hagrid had always had this kind of effect on Harry. Those three hours had almost diverted Harry from his concerns. But at a time or another, a word, a flash of memory, an idea would come across his brain and all was back. And then the here and now would fade away and images of last night would assault his mind, and his guilt would try to drown him in its powerful wave. The hurt he had caused and the many ways he had to find in order to repay his debt... How many times did he found himself staring at nothing, oblivious of any event surrounding him, and mechanically turning his ring around his finger, before he would finally get back to the reality and his classes and friends. This ring... this damn circle of gold that would stay forever where it was. Harry had never worn any kind of ring in his life and its mere presence here was physically disturbing, carving itself in his skin. Well annoying at least. And the sensation would not go away. The more he felt it, the more he was reminded of what it stood for and of what he had done. And Harry was not really gifted when he had to hide his feelings and prevent them from showing on his face. And Hermione and Ron were not oblivious to such signs however discreet they were. They had not been the closest friends Harry had ever had for more than five years now without learning to pick out his moods and feelings. They both could see that something was off but could not quite place the reason for it. That was not the first time they had noticed this kind of behaviour in him. His tendency to retreat in himself whenever something was bothering him... a feeling or a mere impression. He would be in this state for a few minutes, a few hours or even a few days before he could reach a decision or even a solution to his problem. And then, Harry would usually talk to them and share his concern with his two closest and best friends.

Ron had observed the lack of attention Harry had demonstrated on numerous occasion all along the morning breakfast and classes. Six or Seven times already he had caught him distracted, blatantly not listening to him when he talked to him, as he always did during boring lessons. And no way Harry was lost in the topics the teachers were explaining... It would freeze in hell the day he would believe that. No... Harry was simply preoccupied with something else, something he did not want to talk about yet... And it was very annoying... The first time was okay, but the fact that it lasted so long was really getting at Ron's nerves. No reason to worry, but it was so annoying !Where had gone his friend now? Hermione was more worried than annoyed by the time she left her spot at the Gryffindor table after lunch. The scene she had witnessed early this morning in the Common Room, when Harry had been totally out of reach for at least three minutes, no matter how loudly she had been calling him, was enough in itself to arouse her concern. If it had ended with that, her worries would have settled down rather quickly but noticing the numerous repetitions of this symptom for the past five hours now had her very eager to find the cause of this obvious distress in her friend... and finally do her best to cure it. There had to be something under this behaviour, and that was what she had to discover. As always, when dealing with one of her best friends, she felt that honesty and the direct approach was the best way to proceed. And so during their free time, over lunch, when once again Harry had zoned out in the middle of one of his discussion with Ron and herself about the prospect of visiting Hagrid later that evening, she had decided that it was really once too much. And Hermione had taken upon herself to wake him out of it and start her enquiry.

"So Harry, what do you say? We go and see if Hagrid found some new monster or dragon eggs during summer after the afternoon classes? He was a bit disappointed that we didn't come and visit him yesterday, you know?" Ron was asking Harry for the second time with still no answer, and no chance to have one either, if the blank stare Harry was now giving to his plate was any indication. A very annoyed look was rapidly spreading on the red-head's face. Sighing deeply, he was reaching out to shake his friend's shoulder but was not quick enough it seemed, as Hermione had already taken charge of the problem and trying out her own solution.

"Harry! HARRY!" she called him loudly, passing her hand in front of his eyes to get his attention, for the second time in less than six hours. "What is it with you today?" She asked; her tone a little angrier than she had intended. Ron, sat at the other side of Harry, nodded his agreement to the question and the irate tone that carried it.

"What? What is it? " Harry, interrupted in his musing that had immediately followed the arrival at the Staff table of Professor Snape, was still a little lost as to what Hermione could mean by this. "You've been awfully distracted all this morning. You can't keep with us for more than ten minutes without falling in deep thoughts. And not very happy ones, if I trust what I can read on your face right now." She added, describing the meaning of her question carefully to prevent an easy escape from Harry, should he try and get back to the previous topic of conversation, the visit to Hagrid, and ignore their worries. "So I will ask it once again: What is it with you today?"

"Noth-" Harry managed to say the first syllable before he saw, or better, before Hermione showed him the mistake in his choice of word. "And don't tell me `nothing' because it is NOT `nothing'." She admonished him gently if firmly.

"I don't know. I'm just a little... tired, and maybe a bit... preoccupied." Harry stammered, fighting to find the right things to say, to diffuse Hermione's questions and still not really blatantly lying to her and Ron. "But it's nothing to worry about... No particular reason..." "Yeah... right !" Ron snorted, disbelieving this half-hearted affirmation and sarcastically showing it.

"Don't play that game with us, Harry!" Hermione, as it seemed, was not readier than Ron to accept that answer. "Listen, Harry, you are not yourself since this morning... no, not even this morning, since Saturday at least. We know you. You are never so distracted and even distraught like that for so long. Three days, Harry. Three days! So don't try to tell me that there is no reason because there must be one. We're your friends, Harry. You can trust us. You know that we will help you if you need it. Are you in any kind of danger? Talk to us, Harry!"

Hermione's voice had dropped in strength, as she feared some unwelcome ear eavesdropping on their quite private conversation, but the intensity of her angry and concerned tone remained. The result was not as good as expected. Harry, more and more embarrassed and nervous, chose to stay put on the matter. His gaze was turned down to his plate, once again, diverted from his friends' eyes, as if ashamed to let them in the dark like that, as if the realisation that his silence was a painful wound made to their friendship. Harry had made a promise, secret and discretion had been sworn. Even if he wanted desperately the help, comfort and advice of his best friends on the matter that was disturbing so much, he could not resolve himself into breaking his word. He was once again fingering his invisible ring instinctively feeling that it was what was keeping him from being honest, that it was the element that made everything so difficult.

"Let go, please, let me be." Harry found finally the will to speak again. This came as a whisper, followed by a deep sigh. "I'm fine, really. I can't tell you anything but I'm in no danger." With that, he stood and left the Great Hall with a muttered "I'LL see you later in Herbology".

Ron's and Hermione's worried eyes followed Harry on his way out, but the two friends decided not to push the matter further with Harry, for now at least. They however were not at all reassured by their conversation. They fell in a heavy silence, unwilling to discuss this in public, when the matter at hand was maybe of great importance, and of dreadful consequence, who could tell. It was only during their first class of the afternoon, half an hour later, in herbology, that the two concerned friends had the opportunity and the time to share their fears and guesses. Harry was working with Neville at the other side of the greenhouse while Ron and Hermione had been paired together, as usual, and were isolated behind the thick foliage of a giant mandracore they had to prune. Professor Sprout had assigned their task for the last ten minutes of the lesson and they would not be disturbed for this time at least.

"So, what do you think? About Harry, I mean." Ron asked her finally, in muttered voice in which it was easy to read both curiosity and concern.

"I don't know, really. There's obviously something behind his attitude. He told us that much himself. Well, kind of. He didn't deny it anyway. Distracted and obviously worried once or twice on a bad day, I wouldn't say. Come to think about that, Harry has been like that since Saturday afternoon. Since his meeting with Dumbledore and Snape, you know... Something is troubling him... He seems worried, really..." her voice trailed off at this point, as she was engrossed in the analysis of the numerous guesses that were crowding her mind right now. A thoughtful expression spread on her face and her eyes slightly narrowed were the visual proof she was really ill-at-ease with the situation. Something was happening to her friend, or around her friend, and she could not help because she could not piece the elements of the mystery together yet... and of course, because it seemed that her help would not be welcome.

"Do you think maybe He-Who-Mustn't-be-Named could be involved in it ?" Ron's frightened voice interrupted her in her reflections. This question that would terrify rightfully any student or even any adult wizard, had become very common when concerning Harry, especially since Voldemort's return. Everyone knew about the Dark Lord's obsession about the boy who had nearly destroyed him when he had `refused' to be killed by his `Avada Kedavra'. This same question was haunting Ron and Hermione more often that the both cared to remember. This constant threat to their friend's life, and to their own, by extension, had become something they had to live with every day of their lives.

"I'm not sure, Ron. Usually, he tells us about it when it comes to Voldemort... But that could be that... I don't know." Hermione answered slowly, doubt invading her mind once more. "It all comes down to that meeting with Dumbledore and Snape. Harry told us it was about their fight, at the Quidditch practice. But I don't believe it for one second. This meeting lasted hours. Hours, Ron! Do you really think that Dumbledore could admonish them for so long? No. There must have been another matter they had to discuss secretly..." She exposed her reflections, however uncomplete they were, in the hope that saying them out loud would trigger something in her mind and let her see something, anything she had missed.

"Yeah... and Saturday evening. Do you remember how distraught he seemed. He was more than distracted. Something was eating at him." Ron added memory to the pieces of the puzzle. "He told us it was about the detention he would have with Snape Sunday evening... Hey, `Mione, don't you think that it could be something about Snape? Maybe the slimy git did something to Harry, at the meeting and then last evening?"

"Harming him, you mean? Snape? No! He's a teacher, Ron! And Dumbledore trusts him! That means something, don't you think?" Somehow, the idea of Snape hurting Harry with more than his usual snide remarks and mean comment sounded really wrong to Hermione. But Ron had a point. Snape had a part in the problem. Which one ? That was the question.

"I wouldn't put anything past the greasy vampire!" Ron snorted, interrupting her. He had always been biased whenever Hermione had tried to make him understand that Snape could not be as bad as he generally pictured him. His hatred or better, his extreme disgust for his Potions Teacher had already diverted his mind from the important matter: Harry's new and mysterious problem.

"Ron! I'm serious!" she protested annoyed now by his attitude. It seemed to her that Ron could not put his mind seriously on the matter of the well-being of their best friend and that was exasperating. She was going to continue with her theories when the end of the Herbology hour arrived too soon and forced them out of the greenhouse and the discretion of their spot. Their discussion would have to wait.

Twenty minutes later, Hermione, at her desk, in the middle of the classroom, was not really paying attention to the teacher. Not that Professor Lupin could not make this lesson about the basilics interesting and lively. His class was usually one of her favourite. That was not the question. It was not as if she still had anything to learn about the serpent monsters. She knew them first hand, since she had been petrified by the reflection of one of them in her second year. And since, she had read a lot of things about them. No, the reason she was not attentive was because she had a more pressing matter to consider right now.  
>Of course, she had tried to listen and take some notes for the first few minutes. But soon enough, she had thrown a glance toward Harry, sat two desks on her left, next to a very annoyed Ron, and caught him once again staring at nothing and nervously if maybe instinctively rubbing his ring finger... where there was nothing anymore... no more ring. And yet, it had been there, early this morning. She was sure about that. Its glittering had caught her eye and she had even asked Harry about it. Of course, he had not answered. But still, this ring... its design... she had seen it somewhere, before, in a book most certainly... Gathering and reviewing her memories of the past days, Hermione could not find any other occasion. The ring had only been at Harry's finger this morning. Not before, not after this short minutes. When Harry had sneaked out of the boys dorms and walked through the Common Room, where, no doubt, he did not expect to see anyone. He was very distracted and even... distraught. And then he had fled. The previous night, he had served a detention with Snape then the next morning, he had this ring and then again he went to Snape and the ring was no longer on his finger.<p>

Maybe Snape had his part in this mystery as well after all. The intense looks Harry had aimed at the Potions Master during breakfast and lunch were sure give away of Snape's implication in Harry's inner trouble. The last class of the day was Double Potion. Harry's and maybe even Snape's reactions would certainly helpto dissolve the doubt of this suspicion. Hermione would make sure to keep them under a close if discreet watch.

And Harry had been so eager to hide the ring when Hermione had noticed it and asked him about it. That had to mean something. This ring had some importance in the problem at hand. And anyway, for now, since Harry did not want to reveal anything about his problem, the ring and the vague recognition she had of it was her only clue to piece together this new puzzle. As she had not even listened to Professor Lupin for more than half an hour now, she decided that it would not really matter if she did not hear the end of the lesson and that she'd better secure her knowledge of the ring's design before she could forget it. Taking a small piece of parchment and her magical multicoloured ink pot out of her bag, Hermione started to draw a sketch of this mysterious ring. The lion, the intricate lines of the badger around it, the gold band, the rubies and topaz.

Five minutes later, the last detail had been rightfully added to the drawing and the sketch seemed quite realistic. Just as it had appeared to her for the few seconds it had been in front of her some ten hours earlier, this morning. With this drawing, she would be able to find the references of the design, the ring and its meaning in the library, later tonight... and every evening as long as she would not have discovered the key of this new mystery that seemed to threaten Harry.

These thoughts crossing her mind, Hermione was holding the sheet of parchment in front of her eyes and trying to remember if she had not forgotten anything, when she was disturbed in her attentive observation. Professor Lupin was now just in front of her desk, watching her with an annoyed and disapproving look in his eyes.

"Miss Granger - perhaps you could do me the courtesy of paying attention to my lesson!" The deep and slightly sarcastic voice just in front of her startled Hermione into letting the parchment slide from her hands and down on the desk, the picture slid directly on the wooden surface. She had been so absorbed in her reflections that the possibility of being caught had not even crossed her mind one second. And here she was, gasping at this horrible admonishment, blushing furiously, not daring, in her sudden shame, to look at her DADA teacher.

"Sorry Professor" she hurriedly whispered, contrite.

"And what pray tell were you doing that was preventing you from listening to me?" he asked as he reached his hand to pick up the piece of parchment that had fallen just in front of her. "Drawing pictures, I see. And with some very... interesting... artistic...talent..." His voice seemed to trail off when he looked at the picture. A look of puzzlement and wonder flashed rapidly on his face before it faded away.

Lupin, who had only intended to tease one of his favourite student a little on this rare occasion when she had been caught off guard in one of his class, had finally cast his eyes on the picture she had been playing with. And what he saw had greatly surprised him. He had at first look recognised one of the traditional ring of the Protector's parents. He had encountered this legend during his studies. After all, what was the best defence against the dark arts, if not the power and the watchful eye of the Protector. He had always loved the perculiarities of this story and at times made speculation about the identity of this `super-wizard' in their time. Of course, Dumbledore had always been and still was his favourite guess...

But why would Hermione have that picture with her here and now? She couldn't be concerned by it in anyway... she was muggle born after all and the prophecy clearly implied that the bloodlines of the purest wizarding families only could carry the power necessary for the creation of one Protector. It excluded any possibility that she could be involved in the process of it all. And there was even no way to tell when the prophecy would be activated again... No, that drawing did not mean anything... Hermione was a notorious bookworm. She had simply come across it in her readings and had been fascinated by the story, as he had been himself when he had been her age. Nothing more...

"You will surely understand if I confiscate this sheet of paper, won't you, Miss Granger?" He added after a few seconds, regaining his calm composure. Not waiting for her answer to his rhetorical question, he had already turned away and walked back to the front of the classroom.

"Of course, Sir" she muttered under her breath. She had been expecting that much from Professor Lupin. At least, he had not taken any points from Gryffindors for that, and surely wouldn't. This incident, that Hermione had not taken lightly, had finally diverted her mind from the puzzle that had occupied it for the most part of the previous hour.

The last two hours of the shoolday were pleasant neither for the students nor for the teacher. Double Potions with sixth year Gryffindors and Slytherins. It usually was the least favourite class of any of them, but on this particular Monday, it seemed that those two hours had nothing to envy to the most horrible tortures of the hottest pit in hell. Professor Snape was well known for his unfair and mean coldness and his angry and snide remarks in class... as well as in anywhere else in fact. But rarely had he been so utterly odious than during those two long, despairingly endless and painful hours. It had started as every Double Potion they had had in the past five years, with Snape writing the instructions on the blackboard with wide and nervous gesture, as if he was exasperated to have to do such a chore. But as soon as he turned around and fixed his sharp gaze on each of them in a quite defiant and furious glance, the students' heart seemed to freeze in dread of the prospect of the next two hours.

The potion, a sleeping draught, was rather easy to brew, per se... but the atmosphere of the classroom was so oppressive that shaking hands of stressed students were making unforgivable mistakes that a mere first year wouldn't have done. And of course, like an eagle descending on its prey with a deadly accuracy, Snape seemed to be everywhere, seeing every fault, taking points by dozens, whispering cutting, snide, icy and mean remarks directly in the ears of the poor teenagers, Gryffindors as well as, and that was one very rare occasion, Slytherins.

Neville had already melted his cauldron and was silently crying behind his desk after being called "the most worthless, clumsiest, stupidest, nearly squib, excuse for a wizard who should be at St Mungo's with his parents where at least he would not be a danger to his classmates". And every single student received his little remark as well, from the "will you shut up Miss know-it-all" to Hermione who wanted to comfort Neville with whom she had been paired, to a cold "I said silence, and it also applies to spoiled little brats like you, Malfoy" to the blond Slytherin who had tried to make a mocking comment about a certain scarred Boy-Who-Lived who had not moved to defend his fellow Gryffindors, apparently too absorbed in his own thoughts to have even noticed the exchange. Ron, who had not appreciated being called a "braindead Gryffindor" had made the lethal error of answering back to the furious teacher who had immediately taken fifty points from Gryffindor and ordered him to stay after class to arrange a detention.

The only one who seemed immune to this dreadful and terrifying treatment was, and it was very surprising, the Famous Mister Potter. Snape had passed the two hours of Double Potions ignoring absolutely the Boy-Who-Lived. He had not even cast a glance at his potion and the closer he had come to him had been two tables away. However unusual it had appeared to the few who noticed this `blatant show of favouritism', namely, Harry, Ron and Hermione, no one else seemed able to stay attentive to such detail, when everyone was fearing for their own safety.

And finally, the end of the school day came and the relieved students were freedfrom the torture room of the dungeons, more commonly known as the Potions classroom. More than happy with their new found freedom the students hurried out of the classroom, to other parts of the castle where Snape's wrath would less easily find them, leaving behind them a still furious Snape with a no less angry Ron. His head heated by two hours of frustration and muttered anger, Ron was ready to explode at the first snide comment from Snape. The unfair treatment the whole class had endured today and the belief that Snape had surely hurt Harry during detention the previous night were reasons enough in the readhead's mind to demand answers at the very least.

"Well, Mister Weasley. Once again you prove perfectly how well members of your family are taught social skills. Let me congratulate you for it and present you with four hours of detention with Finch tonight. I hope you'll enjoy it and learn a bit of good manners meanwhile. Dismissed !" This little speech, given in this soft and yet icy tone, was filled with the purest form of sarcasm. Still sat behind his desk and now grading homework, Snape had not even once lifted his eyes from the parchments in front of him to cast a glance to his present victim who was now purple, nearly choking on his own anger.

"Good manners? You dare lecture me about good manners when you treat your students like worthless lowly life forms? When you unfairly hurt your students during detention? You cold sadistic excuse for a human being, what the hell did you do to Harry last night?" Ron could not believe what he was hearing. Snape was still insulting him and his family. That had to stop. There was no way he would stay put when he was listening to such words. His outburst, started in a level voice had increased in intensity and finished in a cry of incredulity and hatred.

This had the merit to catch Snape's attention. The teacher's eyes widened at the enormity of what he was told, the extreme rudeness of the tone and the painful allusion that were hidden in the questions, and then narrowed in icy anger. "That will be one hundred points, Weasley. And as I remember telling you, you are DISMISSED !" The false calm behind the words were hiding with difficulty the murderous glance that followed Ron during his whole retreat from the classroom.

"Yeah... Whatever, sir!" Ron called back sarcastically before slamming the door shut behind him.

At the deafening sound that echoed throughout the corridors around the Potions labs, Harry and Hermione who had been waiting for Ron at the top of the stairs leading to the dungeons, felt their blood freeze in apprehension and fear for their friend. Their worries did not diminish when they finally saw Ron emerging from the stairs, still furious and breathless.

"What happened, Ron? What was it? Are you all right?" Hermione nearly did not wait to be in the security of the Gryffindor's Common Room to assault Ron with her questions.

"I lost one hundred points, earned four hours of detention with Finch. But I managed to finally tell off the slimy vampire. You should have seen it when I told him that he was the last man to tell me to go and learn good manners after the way he has treated us today and the way he has hurt Harry yesterday. You could not believe how pale he was when he heard that and..." Ron never finished his sentence, as Harry interrupted suddenly and quite brutally.

"YOU TOLD HIM WHAT ? Oh Ron, you STUPID GIT!" Harry exploded. And once again, he had been absolutely unable to keep his calm and threatened their secret. `Bravo, Harry! Well done!' he admonished himself before trying to find an explanation for his outburst.

"Snape didn't hurt me. I hurt him. There was an... accident... with a... potion. It exploded and he was hurt protecting me. For the first time of my life, Snape was kind of generous and fair with me... He didn't even take away points. He just helped me and made sure that I was fine before I came back to the dorm last night. And you go and accuse HIM of hurting ME! Ron, you STUPID MORON !" He screamed frantically before turning away and running out of the Gryffindor's tower, leaving his two bewildered friends staring at his quickly retreating back.

Ron and Hermione needed a few minutes to fully take in what they had been told in such a furious and hot manner. At least, now, things were clearer and the great mystery of what was troubling Harry was finally discovered... or almost discovered.

"Did you hear what I think I have just heard?" asked a bewildered Ron.

"If you mean that you have insulted Snape when he deserved some gratitude, then yes, I heard the same as you." Hermione admonished a bit harshly, now annoyed and a little disappointed by Ron proudly confessing making such a scene to a professor, and so unfairly.

"Ooops?" Ron tried with an apologetic little voice.

"Ooops indeed, Ron!" Hermione agreed. "I think we'd better follow Harry and, if I'm right and he went to see if Snape is all right, that'll be the perfect occasion for you to apologise" She added meaningfully after a few seconds.

"Mioooone ! You really think it's necess..." Ron tried to escape once again what he felt was going to cost him a lot both in pride and courage.

"YES, RON! Don't discuss with me. Come on. We don't have all the time in the world!" with these words, Hermione grabbed Ron's arm and dragged him out of the Common Room and toward the dungeons.

Harry was however already five minutes ahead of his two friends. He was flying through the crowded corridors, running down the stairs, hurrying to his final destination. Really, he had to try and straighten things up as well as he could.

He couldn't believe Ron's stupidity... That Severus had hurt him last night. Bloody hell! Of all the things he could have said... A look of horror spread on Harry's features at this realisation. He should go and apologise right now. After what he had done last night, he had not even gone and apologised to Severus. And now Ron had gone and accused Severus of that. Damn! Severus was not guilty! He was the victim! How this accusation had to hurt Severus! Hell! He was already down in the dungeons, half way to the door of the Potions classroom, when he was hit by a powerful wave of emotions and feelings that obviously were not his, a flash as soon gone as it had come. Meanwhile, at the other side of the wall, Severus was trying to cope with the stress of the day. He had managed to keep his temper all day long. It was easy enough. How many times had he gone along with his day to day tasks and duties after nights spent with Voldemort ? Too many to remember them all, in fact. And this was no different... Except that he had to see his face, Potter's face, his... husband's face, all day long, during meals, in the corridors and just then for two hours in his own classroom. Severus had managed to ignore him for the most part of it. But Potter's mere presence was something he wanted to banish from his life if possible. It was disturbing and... humiliating even... to feel his eyes on him or even worse, his eyes trying to escape from him, his obvious loathing. Yes, the boy had possessed him... he had to be proud now, having tamed the hated teacher, reduced him to his toy... Potter could not even look at him without that damn disgust.

Really, Severus did not need it right now. He was tired, had barely slept in the last two days and had experienced some pretty exhausting physical strains. And those abdominal cramps he had suffered from time to time all day long were sending excruciating tendrils of pain. Albus had told him that they were a possibility, that his body had to finish the adaptations necessary for his pregnancy. His pregnancy... that was another thing, with Potter, that he did not want to even think about. So being reminded of it every hour or so... it was clearly too much for Severus to bear with calm and the greatest patience. And now, hearing that from that stupid, arrogant, dumb, idiot, holier-than-thou, rude, impulsive, crazy Weasley. That really made his day. What else would he have to live through today ? And this bloody stupid Potter who had most certainly gone to complain to his little friends, as if he did not know the meaning of discretion. Did he want the whole school to know ? Of course, he had defeated the big bad Potions Master, humiliated the slimy vampire... he had gone around boasting about it. Did he want him dead or what? His anger, frustration, insecurity, exhaustion and dull pain took over in his mind and his mental shields were no longer strong enough to stop the link that bonded him to his husband, Harry Potter who happened to be standing just in front of him. Oh no no no no no ! he had not done everything he could to avoid the boy to have him invade the little privacy he still had.

"What are you doing here? I have no time for you, Potter! Get out!" Severus wearily whispered to Harry with a sigh. Really, he didn't need that now.

"But, I came to see if you..." Harry tried anyway to ask how the exhausted man still sitting in front of him was feeling and managing, with everything that had happened in the last day, and maybe also the pregnancy. But Severus never gave him the chance to end his sentence. Instead he stood in a nervous and threatening move and, pointing his arm toward the door, started to shout this time

"Didn't you hear me, boy? I don't need you here! GET OUT!" At this terrifying outburst, Harry flinched, violently shaken, not really because of the words, not even because of the icy tone of this voice, but under the weight of the emotions that were pouring from the man in front of him. Through the open link, he was assaulted by Severus' anger at the situation, his feeling of being trapped, his perceived humiliation at the hands of Harry, his frustration at being used the way he had been, his resentment for it, and most of all, his overwelming desire to be left alone by the whole world. Understanding that, maybe, now was not the time to disturb such a furious soul, and not really willing to get past the wall of those aggressively negative emotions, Harry decided that retreating was the safest thing to do. He was halfway to the door when he was stopped in his move by a strangled cry and a new emotion, by a glimpse of what was hiden behind the wall of fury, by pain, both physical and mental. Turning around, the scene in front of him sent cold shivers of worry in his blood. Severus had doubled over in pain, holding his midsection in a death grip and closing his eyelids tightly. Rushing at the suffering man who happened to be his husband's side, Harry took hold of him and eased him gently in the seat he had just left not even twenty seconds ago.

Surprised in his fury by a cramp, Severus had not had enough time to brace himself against the pain and when it had come, the spasm had been too intense to ignore. If Potter had not been there, he would certainly have fallen and would maybe even have injured himself... Now at least he was... safe. The blankness that had invaded his mind during his crisis was now replaced with something else... feelings and emotions that were clearly not his own. Care for his health, his safety. Worry. Shame. Contrition and guilt for having hurt him. A deep desire to comfort him... And all that from Potter? But how? Ah... the link, of course. This wave of attention was like a warm blanket on Severus' insecurities and for a few minutes, during which he worked at steadying his breathing, he felt... yes, safe and a little reassured about the boy's intentions toward him... That was even... comforting... But the boy was talking to him now...

"Are you all right? What was it? What can I do to help?" his voice was heavy with concern and a bit of panic. The crisis had been quite impressive and the worry was evident in Harry's eyes. The man in front of him had been hurt, was obviously tired and most importantly, and terrifying, pregnant.

"Don't worry. It's only a cramp. My body must adapt to this new condition. It's normal... it'll pass in a few hours at most." Severus reassured him in a very weary tone. Not that he really cared if Potter was eaten by worry or not... well, not really... but he was feeling that sooner the boy would be sure of his good health, sooner he would leave him alone to rest at last.

"Oh..." Harrry, quite embarrassed by this information, and feeling quite guilty about it didn't quite know what to say. It was the perfect occasion for Severus to press his point.

"If you have nothing else to do here, I would appreciate if you'd leave me alone to rest a little." He asked evenly, his desire clearly stated.

"Okay... I mean sure... ehh... In fact, I wanted to apologise for last night... I'm... sorry for hurting you like that... I should have been more careful and..." his voicetrailed off after this difficult admission of guilt and this brave and heartfeltapology. The emotions he was sending through their link were proof enough of the sincerity and the honesty of this statement.

"I know... it wasn't your fault... not totaly at least."Severus did not really know why he had felt the need to reassure the boy whose sorrow was affecting him in weird ways, but those simple words, and the meaningful and steady glance that were accompanying them seemed to have the expected effect on the boy. A sparkle of hope and of warmth appeared in Harry's soul and spread through the bond to Severus' soul.

As an after thought, Severus added "And I would appreciate if you could keep all this secret. No more Weasley rushing in here and yelling at me about things he half suspects."

At these words, just behind the half opened door, Hermione and Ron who had just arrived two minutes ago, just after the crisis, decided to retreat discreetly back to the Gryffindor's tower. They had heard enough to be convinced that their presence here was not welcome and that what Harry had told them a few minutes ago was nothing but the truth, however weird and uncharacteristic it seemed. Reassured that Harry was not in trouble, they walked away. Inside the potions classroom, Harry was red with embarrassment. His lack of talent in keeping secrets and acting as if nothing had happened had been rightfuly criticized and he couldn't blame Severus for it. "I didn't tell them anything, I swear. I was maybe a little distracted and Hermione and Ron got a little worried about me, that's all. They don't know anything." He tried to explain, contrite.

His only answer for a moment was a deep sigh, finally followed by a soft "I know". Severus didn't doubt that one second. The Gryffindor's honor would prevent Potter from betraying him and breaking the promise he had made to Albus.

Shaking his head after a while, Severus straightened up in his chair and clearedhis mind deliberately, willing the link to get back in a sleeping state. That was a practical way to end the conversation, the first real and human one they had ever had. "Could you please leave me alone now. I need to rest" He asked firmly if politely and turned his attention away from the boy and onto the papers covering his desk.

Thus dismissed, Harry muttered a "Of course" followed by a nearly inaudible "Good night" and left, his soul a little lighter after this unexpected exchange that had shown him new and unexpected aspects of the man he had had to marry on the previous night.

Chapter 13: Insomnia, Nightmares and Dreams

The remaining of the school week was as normal as could be expected from any September week in Hogwarts. The routine had settled itself back upon Harry's and Severus' lives. And no one could have guessed, watching them, that anything special had happened to them to bind them forever only a few days earlier. And that was exactly what Severus had tried to accomplish. In the outside, he was behaving absolutely according to his years old habits. Yelling at students, Gryffindors particularly, favouring the Slytherins, making the Potions class a living hell, haunting the corridors of the castle at night, patrolling in the hope he could deduct points from wandering students: every one in Hogwarts could see him playing those games as usual. To sum it up, he was in everyone's eyes his usual nervous, irascible and unfair self.

But if anyone had watched him a little closer, they would have seen the lines of exhaustion that were progressively carving themselves around his eyes. They would have seen his complexion slowly going from pale to livid. They would have noticed that, at the end of meals, his plates were never empty. They would have calculated that between the time he finished his night patrols and the time he was making his daily inspection of the Slytherins' quarters and dorms, only at most four or five hours had passed. They would have seen the slight trembling of his hands at the end of the day. They would have seen the fire in his eyes when a unexpected and unwelcome wave of intense warmth, a gift from the hormonal storm that was ravaging his body and invading his bloodstream, overwhelmed him. They would have understood at last that something was definitively wrong with his behaviour, with his health.

But Severus had established himself so well in his position of the most hated teacher of Hogwarts that very rare were the persons who would go past his icy and cutting manners to look for such signs. But such an interest would demand that the person would really care about Severus. And there were very few people in this category. And Severus was too good an actor to let those signs slip in public. Timely outburst and cold anger aimed at anyone who would be able to notice them were there to make a very practical diversion. A cunning slytherin, an expert spy, a man accustomed to any kind of abuse and injuries... every aspect of his personality was screaming to him that showing any weakness would be his downfall.

But if he had to be honest with himself, Severus had to admit that he did not feel very well. The additional stress he was under now made things a bit worse than usual. Luckily, the cramps had disappeared after the third day. But they had exhausted him and lowered his resistance and energy levels. And rebuilding them seemed more difficult said than done. When meals came, he never felt that much hungry and he only picked at his food for appearance's sake. On the rare occasions his eyes met his reflection in a mirror whenever he was in his bathroom, getting in or out of the shower, he could see that he was starting to loose some weight. Nothing much, but his current incapacity to fill his stomach was no help in the matter.

As for resting and relaxing, Severus was not opposed to this idea either. But that was an hope that he was not really sure he could accomplish in his present condition. Since he was sixteen years old, Severus had needed a dreamless sleep draught to enjoy a calm night without nightmares or so agitated that it seemed that he woke up more tired than he was when he had gone to bed. And of course, once the habit had been taken, it was more and more difficult to get asleep without taking that very powerful potion.

He remembered, on Monday, not five nights ago, when he had got ready for bed after that first day since That Night. He had just taken a long and warm bath that had eased away his pains, made him forget the cramps, his nervousness and anger. Then clad in his nightshirt, he had climbed under the covers and reached for the vial he kept in his nightstand. He had already opened it and, the lips directly on the neck of the little bottle, was going to drink from it... when he froze and threw the vial against the nearest wall in frustration.

Some Potions Master he was, really. He was pregnant and was going to take some mandrake root! Whatever was he thinking about? He would have felt nothing for the first ten minutes and then a strong fever would have overtaken him and not one hour later, he would have aborted and suffered some major haemorrhage. Really, that was first year's knowledge: the specifics and restrictions of the Dreamless Sleep Draught. Never drink it during pregnancy!

That was at this moment that Severus had, maybe for the first time, understood clearly that his condition could not really be ignored during the next nine month until it would solve itself quite naturally and definitively. At this moment, Severus understood that he had also responsibilities and could not act as if nothing had happened, that he would have to be careful and change some elements of his day to day life, for both his and the baby's sakes. And overall, Severus knew then one of his most frustrating night of his life.

Without the Potion, sleep was extremely hard to find on that night. After turning over and over in bed for at least two hours, he decided to get up and wander a little in the castle. It was half past two in the morning when he finally fell exhausted in his bed, only to be awaken four hours later by a nightmare he couldn't quite remember. His nights had often been crowded by all sorts of nightmares, from memories of nights spent with Voldemort, to hells of his own creation that threatened to held him prisoner for all eternity in their tortures. And only the Dreamless Sleep Draught had prevented him to suffer through them in the past years. But now, this plague had come back, along with the sudden wake up, drenched in cold sweat and panting, trying to recall where he was and finding out if he was safe or if the world of his dream was the cruel reality.

The following nights were basically the same. Only physical fatigue could lure him into a deep but agitated sleep that was not really doing wonders to his health and his social skills. The more tired he got, the more irascible he was. At least, on this Friday evening, around ten o'clock, Severus felt so exhausted both physically and mentally by the accumulation of stress in the past week that he was sure that the moment his head would touch his pillow, he would loose consciousness and enter the realm of Morpheus. Then again, he would be lucky if his mind was so tired that he would not be able to dream. One could only hope!

One hour later, the unconscious part of his mind was travelling out of reality in the land of dreams and nightmare. Severus found himself standing still in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by... nothing, strictly nothing. No landscape, no sky, no earth, no tree, no sea, no city, no sand, nothing on the ground, nothing in the air, nothing near, nothing in the faraway horizon. Nothing but emptiness, no form, no design, nothing but a sickening flatness, nothing multiplied by the infinity, and spread everywhere, all around him, in the thousands of miles of this nothingness. No life, no sound, no smell, no flavour, no sensation but numbness, nothing but him in the middle of nothing, with himself and his fears as only companion.

And it was so oppressive, this impression to be lost here, in this hole that wasn't even a hole, to be left here, with nothing he knew, nothing he could go to, not even knowing where he was, nor remembering how he had arrived in this hell. The first few minutes, or what seemed to be minutes, in this unchanging environment, he had remained still and calm, only turning around to contemplate the bright nothingness. After all, if there was nothing here, nothing could hurt him, right? But then, doubts had crept silently in his mind. He was suddenly dreadfully sure that a threat was hiding in this desert and sterile universe, that this emptiness would be his tomb.

And then this terrifying laugh, deep and menacing, exploded from everywhere at once. That so familiar and yet so hated and feared voice. Voldemort's. This overwhelming sensation of extreme disgust mixed with the certain knowledge of the tortures and pains that this particular tone promised to Severus washed over him. Panicked, eager to flee the dangerous and sickening presence, Severus started to run as fast as possible, straight ahead, not caring where he was headed to, as long as it was away from this voice. But there seemed to be no way to escape. The dark laugh was always behind him, mocking his fear and his inability to stand up to it.

It seemed that hours had passed, four, five, six even. And Severus was still running for his life, in the same nothingness. Nothing else mattered. There was nothing in his mind except for this urgent need to flee. Panting and breathless, he was not sure how he was still able to put one feet in front of the other anymore. He felt like a weight in his stomach growing heavier and heavier as his pace was getting accordingly slower and slower. That race was doomed to fail and in the distance, Severus could hear the laugh getting closer with every moment. If he was attentive enough, he could even perceive the light sound of steps behind him. The danger, Voldemort and his tortures would be on him soon, in a matter of a few minutes. And still, Severus kept on running.

And then, it happened. Severus could not move any longer. A curse had hit him in his back. A `petrificus totalis' certainly, judging by its effects on him, even if no word had been uttered. A cold sweat poured down his back and chest. The few seconds of waiting were killing him. He was dying to turn around and see what had attacked him. To be sure of his fate, of his enemies. But he was locked in this position.

Soon, cold and reptilian invisible hands were roaming all over his body, and a disgusting sound of rapid and excited breathing reached his ears. And still Severus couldn't move. He was a prisoner in his own body when an invisible Voldemort, for who else could it be, was abusing him yet again. A silent scream, that couldn't escape from his throat, paralysed as it was, was echoing in his mind and the mere force of this disgust and repulsion seemed to touch somehow his attacker, sending the ghost in a storm of fury.

The hands disappeared at the exact same time when a terrible and excruciating pain assaulted every nervous ending of Severus' body. The cruciatus, of course. The so familiar punishment... Bracing himself against its devastating effects as best as he could, Severus managed to overcome the `petrificus totalis' to close his eyes firmly and clutch his fists tightly. Nearly immediately, he fell on the ground and convulsed for what seemed to be hours.

The next thing he knew, when he opened his eyes after this treatment, the decor of Severus' personal hell had changed. He was still sprawled on a white surface, but it was no longer neutral. It was cold and slightly damp, soft and yet extremely hard under his body... snow and ice. And above him a cloudy and angrily and replaced the white infinite nothingness. Turning his attention to his direct surroundings, Severus finally recognised the place, the trees on one side, the bench and the path on the other side, the little skiffs pulled up on the bank.

The lake on Hogwarts ground, near the Forbidden Forrest... frozen by the Scottish winter. And Severus was on top of it... perfectly knowing that the few inches of ice would never be able to support his weight for long.

The first move he made, a little crack assured him of his fate. Then another crack and another yet. Severus wanted to scream, to call someone to help but his voice had disappeared, killed in his throat once again. And then, the next moment, he was no longer alone in this winter landscape. The whole school was now assembled all around the lake, teachers and students joyfully talking and laughing together, celebrating and cheering... all of them basking in the warmth of their assured security and their nave happiness to be simply alive and free.

And no one seemed to see him. He was there, in the middle of their happy circle, in the middle of the frozen lake, on the edge of falling to his death... all alone and hurting deeply, crying inside his mind and yet ignored so blatantly... And then, it happened, the ice cracked one last time and Severus fell. Soon, the deadly cold water had submerged him and he was sinking slowly but surely. It was so cold... his limbs were paralysed and the weight he carried in his lower abdomen was pulling him irremediably toward the depth of the lake. His eyes wide open on the fading light, Severus was feeling himself falling and falling, both burned and numbed by the cold, while his lungs were slowly filling with the invading liquid that was surely choking him. For the last time, Severus' mind screamed and begged "HELP", louder in its desperation than it had ever done before. And everything went black...

In the Gryffindor dorm, a black-haired, green-eyed, scarred sixteen years old boy was soundly sleeping when he was suddenly dragged from his dream, the final of the Quidditch world championship he was about to win, by a mental cry for help that pulled him to another dimension of nightmare, Severus' nightmare...

In one heartbeat, the other quidditch players had disappeared, along with his playing robes and his firebolt. A very disorientated Harry Potter found himself standing at on the frozen surface of Hogwarts' lake. At his feet, a gaping hole was opening on the dark waters that had not been solidified by the cold winter. And still this scream that was painfully filling his ears as well as his mind.

"HELP"... But there was no one here to save, no one he could see, no one else on the frozen lake, no one on the bank... And still the cry for help desperately went on and on... An unconscious force seemed to distil the imperious need, the irrepressible urge to give any help necessary to the person, whoever it could be, who was so blatantly needed to be rescued.

It took only a few seconds to Harry to conclude that if no one was in any danger above the surface of the lake, then, maybe it was in the water he had to search.

Casting resolutely his eyes downward, into the hole in the ice, he willed himself to see through the dark waters and suddenly could distinguish a black form in it, a human form. Someone was drowning and freezing in here. Harry didn't lose one second and hurried to cast a levitating spell to retrieve the body he hoped was still alive from the depth of the lake.

"Wingardium leviosa!". With these two powerful words, the black human figure slowly floated up to the surface and came out of the water to finally land on the bank, at Harry's feet. The teenager had not even had the impression he was moving, so intent was he to carry on as best as possible with his self assigned mission... And then, one look at the livid brought with an overwhelming feeling of panic, the sudden realisation of the identity face of the man he had just rescued. Severus. Severus whose eyes were closed, whose skin was nearly transparent, with a slightly blue colour, whose limbs were motionless, whose hands were colder than ice, who seemed now more dead than alive. A really terrifying sight.

Reaching frantically for the sprawled body, Harry checked for any sign of life. A breathing move, maybe... no. A pulse... come on, Severus, just a pulse... yes, a weak and dangerously slow pulse. YES! So, what are you supposed to do to resuscitate a drowned person? What do you do for a person who can't breath alone? What was it they had been told in that muggle school, when he was ten, this day when the firemen had come to show them? Ah, yes, you had to breath for them...

With a gentle and careful gesture, Harry opened Severus' mouth and, putting his lips on the blue and cold lips of his husband, started to blow the air he had just inhaled into the still lungs. Waiting a few seconds to see it there was any reaction and noticing none, Harry repeated the same process once, a second, a third, a fourth, a fifth and then a sixth time. Finally one reaction, one sign of life... Severus convulsed under Harry's holding hands and turned on its side to throw up the water that had filled his lungs, coughing painfully in the process.

One minute later, under Harry's frightened if relieved watch, Severus started to shiver and whispered in a very tired and weak voice "C-c-cold... I'm s-so c-c-cold". In the next second, Harry was cradling Severus' body in his lap, rocking him slowly and maintaining the barely conscious man pressed against his chest. His arms wrapped around his husband cold figure, Harry started to rub some warmth back into Severus, whispering some calming words and soothing noise in his ear. The tenderness of the gesture, maybe more than the actual gesture, had wonderful results. The shivering stopped, the damp robes magically dried, and heat settled back in the icy veins and muscles.

Slowly, Severus came out of his semi-conscious state, opening tiredly his and took a look at his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was the brutal change in the season and the weather. Gone were now snow, ice and cold air. In their place the sun had finally fought the clouds away and the landscape had taken spring colours. Severus had no longer to suffer this bone chilling sensation that had overtaken him a few minutes ago. A very fine improvement indeed.

The last thing he remembered was falling in the frozen lake, just after escaping a strange nothingness filled with the shadow of danger that had always meant Voldemort to him. He had thought every thing was finished for him when he had started to choke and his body had refused to obey, paralysed as it was by the burning and biting cold. But all that, all the threats that had filled the air around him, that had been so oppressing, had vanished. He felt... good and free... more so than he had felt for years, in fact.

The second thing, even more disturbing, was his position, surprisingly comfortable and secure, settled against a soft and warm... chest in which he could hear a strong, calm and soothing heartbeat... Arms around him, and hands gently rubbing his back with little circling moves... A soft voice offering appeasing words and sounds directly to his ear... What? A chest? Arms? Hands? A voice? Albus maybe? The only person who had ever done that kind gesture for him was Albus... and who else could it be, really? But no, the voice was not Albus'.

Pulling his head slightly away from this warm and living pillow and turning it upside, he finally identified his saviour... Potter? That was unexpected. Severus was beginning to get a little disoriented and lost, and that was an understatement. Potter? Why the hell would he want to do that, to help a sadistic bastard like him? Finding back his eloquence, or a little sparkle of it at least, Severus started to give words to his confusion. "What?... What happened?

And what are you doing here?"

"Well? I don't really know." Harry answered, quite puzzled by the question. Since he had arrived here, he had acted on instinct, following the path urgency had forced him to walk. He had not even taken a minute to wonder what indeed he was doing here. A good question indeed. "For the last half hour or so, I levitated you out of a frozen lake, made sure you would keep on living and then that you would not die of hypothermia. And before that... I don't understand, really... I was going to win the world cup of Quidditch for England... and then I heard a cry for help. I knew I had to answer it, that it was important... And the next thing I knew I was here... Do you understand anything about that, because I, for one, think I must be dreaming or something..."

"Indeed, Potter, indeed. Things don't seem to add up very logically." His mind, when he had finally found sleep, had been so tired that when the nightmare had come, Severus had been totally unable to keep his focus upon the thought that would have saved him emotionally all along: `that's not reality, it's only a dream'. But now that he could calmly think about his present situation, the conclusion was imposing itself to him. "And in this case, the only explanation I see is that you might be right: we are dreaming. Or better, I am dreaming. As for you, you are not even real. You must be part of my perturbed and exhausted imagination... my...ah, what do muggles call it?... Ah yes, my unconscious. The tricky little thing... and cruel with that, making me live through tortures and then drowning me in the icy depth of that lake with everyone witnessing but not even taking a step to help me... Well, nothing unusual about that... But you, I did not expect. I don't understand why the hell my imagination would put you here to save my pathetic dreaming self..."

Severus as it seemed had easily dismissed Harry's presence as a mere figment of his exhausted mind, a virtual being, just as every little detail, person or things that were surrounding him in the world of his dreams and nightmares. But Harry was far from thinking so little of himself. He was there, in this particular dream, for real... no doubt about that. As for knowing if Severus was really here with him or if it was a simple bit of his imagination, according to Severus' own theory, Harry was less sure about it than the older wizard. After all, contrary to Snape, he had jumped from one dream to another totally different, one he had no idea why he would imagine on his own. And Severus seemed too real, too complex to be only a picture, a sketch of himself... Normally, Snape, in his dreams, or better, in his nightmares, was never like that. Never showing any weakness, when now he had called him for help, called him for help, do you realise! And he seemed so human, after all, not the monster, the sadistic jerk he had considered him for years, a human being, just like he had come to see him since their wedding. That was a very likely possibility that they were both in the same dream, together... thanks to their soul bond, maybe... yes, that would explain it, yes...

"Ah, sir... I assure you that I'm real. I'm here, it's me, Harry Potter, not a mere illusion" Harry tried to interrupt Severus reasoning with this genuine affirmation.

"No, Potter, no. That is exactly what I would imagine you would answer to that... Even in dream, you can't bear not being the focus of attention. As I was saying, you are in my dream, so you are a part of my dream, nothing more. The question is, why would I want to include you in here." Severus had yet again dismissed Harry's suggestion without really thinking about it. In fact, believing that Potter was not really here was quite reassuring to Severus. His real presence would mean that his moment of weakness had been exposed to someone else's knowledge. It meant that he would have to deal with interacting with the boy who had become his husband in a closer way that he was forced to in his every day's life. It meant that he would have to communicate with him as other human did. To sum it up, it was easier and much more comfortable to pretend that Potter was merely virtual, or at least to try and convince himself of that theory.

"Of course," he continued his musing out loud, "there is always the fact that you are the model of the hero, just like your father before you... all brave and noble and everything... Just the kind of person who would come and save such twisted bastard as me, not caring about the price they would pay if something went wrong, not caring about the danger they could get into. Really, Potter, or Pseudo-Potter, not that I'm not grateful that you saved me just now, but one day, your luck will run out and you'll get badly hurt, or even die. And worse even, your innocence, your natural kindness, this precious gift you carry with you, could be mercilessly and excruciatingly ripped away from you, bit after bit. And that, Potter, I don't wish it to my worst enemy.

"You have never understood that. I have tried to keep you away from danger such like that, but you've never even made the effort to listen to me for one second.

Not that it would change anything to tell you that right now, my dear virtual Potter, but well, if I can't tell you that much in my own dream, where I can be sure that your image is listening to me, when can I speak? Don't you think I care? Do you really think that I would see what happened to me fall on you without trying to do something?" Severus's voice had raised with every sentence, as his enthusiasm and passion were freed from the frustrating chains that had bonded them in the deepest parts of his soul until this moment. He had now a chance to say what he had always wanted to say and had somehow, and without any real and logical reason, decided to make full use of this occasion.

Just beside him, Harry was left speechless, really bewildered to hear that long and so sincere speech that he was not even meant to hear. So Severus cared about his safety! He worried about his welfare! That was so startling and disturbing to finally learn that about the man he had thought for years as a mean bastard who wanted nothing more than expel him and would laugh at his misery. How far that belief was from the true intentions of this man he had so totally misunderstood. And that new knowledge was awakening a new kind of surprisingly warm feelings deep in his heart. The more he heard, the more he wanted to learn about the man who was now his husband and who he knew so little. The more he discovered, the more his respect for Severus, as well as some kind of... yes, it was a sort of affection, wasn't it... was gaining power in him. And maybe after all this awkward situation was the perfect occasion for Harry to learn a bit more about the husband whose heart, soul and mind were now bonded to his own.

"I don't even know why I am telling you that now. What use is it, really..." with a sigh, Severus turned then his attention to the position he was still enjoying, warmly cradled in Harry's lap, just against his chest. When he had decided that Harry was not real, he had not judged necessary to pull away from this little comfort he took here. "I wonder why it is you I feel comfortable with right now, and why my imagination didn't summon Albus instead of you. That would surely be my primary choice any day... He is a father to me, you know. He was always there for me when I needed him the most. Without him, I would be dead inside, not that there is a lot still alive in me anyway... but well, I think I would have ended it all years ago without him..." his voice had taken a sorrowful and yet dreamy note at this revelation he was, in his opinion at least, making to himself only.

"And yet, it's you here and not him. And the thing about which I'm really surprised is that I really appreciate the little comfort you're providing me right now." Severus seemed only now to become aware of the particularly close and even maybe intimate position he was still keeping in Harry's arms, sitting across his lap and his head resting on the boy's chest. " It's quite embarrassing, you know. Even freaking... I don't usually accept this kind of contact from anyone... only my late mother and Albus." His voice had taken a very bewildered and surprised tone, as if the realisation was really puzzling him.

Just behind him, Harry didn't dare to interrupt him when finally Severus was confiding something in him. That could be so important to understand his husband and the place he should expect to have by his side... Severus had not yet rejected him blatantly. There was some kind of improvement here, wasn't there?

"At least, you are not real... Must be the warmth you are providing me with. The physical support... What else? It's something I needed." he added softly after a few moments of reflections ended by a deep sigh". I'm so tired, you see. Not physically. All right, maybe that too... this new situation, this damned insomnia and the nightmare when I finally manage to close my eyes for a few seconds.

Before, I had my dreamless sleeping draught, but this... pregnancy, damn it! I can't even take the potion anymore! And how am I supposed to rest if I can't even sleep?" At this point, Severus sighed again and shifted his body so as to find a more comfortable position against Harry's chest. Taking the hint, Harry started to gently rub his husband's back, feeling him gradually relax and take a step toward calm and peace of mind, to sum it up, rest.

"And watching over my shoulder at any minute to see if Voldemort is not there to catch me... or one of his slaves, the Malfoys, Goyles, Crabbes and company always spying on every thing and everyone, when I am supposed to spy on them, Voldemort and the Death Eaters... It's hell, let me tell you. Acting, playing mind games, pretending to be the submissive, faithful and loving... No I don't even want to think about that. What good would it do to me anyway?" Harry, feeling that Severus was growing frustrated, upset and stressed once more, tightened his hold, starting to rock them both gently, whispering barely audible nonsense to try and calm him down. "shhh, Severus. They're not here. You can relax now... shhh"

"Yes... you're right. Maybe they'll leave me alone this week end if I stay in my private quarters. They won't come and trouble me there." Severus had finally accepted this reassurance from what he considered an other part of himself, the little optimistic part that had survived all these years, maybe. And anyway he had other more pleasant thing to think about and to plan. He couldn't live with his fears and cautions 24 hours a day, could he? And the moment he had a quite not so unpleasant dream, he wasn't going to spoil it by such stupid apprehensions, was he? He felt warm and safe here, like that, after all. He should enjoy it for as long as it would last. And then, his face brightened noticeably as well as his tone when his next thought invaded his mind.

"And I have this potion to brew. Such a beautiful thing this Wolfbane potion, so wonderfully complex. And I'm trying to improve it, to find the perfect combination. Remus will be pleased about it if everything goes fine with it. He will be able to keep his human mind and understanding when in wolf form, even more than with the original draught. And I'll add some painkiller to mellow the effects of the transformation. Poor Remus... he knows what it means to suffer..." he added as an afterthought with a sigh, before focusing his mind on the subject once again.

`Wait a minute! Am I going crazy?' Harry silently wondered at these last declaration. Hadn't Severus just admitted that he felt compassion for Professor Lupin... wow! That was so unexpected. Snape hated the DADA teacher, everyone knew that. He despised the werewolf, he couldn't even stand his presence. Hell, he was the one who had disclosed Remus' secret in third year and thus made him resign. There was something wrong here... something going against logic, against everything he thought he knew about the terrible Potions Master. Snape being able to feel something like pity and compassion... Harry would have stated sincerely that he was sure that was absolutely impossible only one week ago. But now... wow! How things could change in a week!

"I still have to work on it though. It must be finished before the full moon on Tuesday. We'll test it then, to control the results. I still have to work on it though. A few details. Such a delightful perspective for this week end. You know, it's like searching for a beautiful melody, trying to make the perfect harmony, adding a few notes here and there, and finally getting the symphony you have been only able to hear in your dreams." At this point, Severus voice had taken a distant and dreamy edge, as if he was distracted by something... or maybe as if he was searching for this magical music he had just described.

Harry however was totally bewildered by this new version of Severus, the enthusiastic and genuinely happy one. The change in his tone when he was speaking about potions was nothing but stupefying. Harry didn't know so much passion could inhabit the man he had considered as a cold vampire for so long.

And this lyricism... this poesy... There was definitely a new side of the man he had married he had not even imagined ever existed. Sensitive, highly perceptive and passionate... in rare occasions, maybe, but the potential was there indeed.

"Here, listen! Can't you hear it..." As Severus was dreamily speaking, a soft music had raised from nowhere in particular and has surrounded them both with its beauty and its sad melody. Violins singing in their highest voices, bringing a little lightness to the lament played by the cellos. A very passionate piece of the romantic time, Beethoven, maybe. "That reminds me some of the melodies I used to play when I was a little child. My mother had taught me how to play the piano before she died and then I continued to practice on my own. She said I had the hands of a musician... I played some Chopin at first, the lightness and the playful spirit of the valses and other pieces were charming. And then I was seduced by the passion and the strength of Beethoven Sonatas... But when I went to Hogwarts, my father and Voldemort couldn't bear it anymore... it was too much of a muggle thing, you see. And my piano ended its life in a giant fire... Damn them all!"

Severus who had grown calm when he had started to talk about his passions for Potions and music had suddenly lost this same peace of mind. One more thing they had taken from him for their damn politic, for their personal ambitions. He had already felt this same anger rise many times in the depth of his mind and heart.

That was nothing new, this bitterness that wanted to crawl inside his soul and invade him with its shadows and desires of revenge and of rebellion. But soon, as usual, the fury would recede and he would once again be at peace with himself...

And Harry's reassuring and comforting presence was here to help him in this matter. It was easy for the teenager to notice the quick change of mood that had overtaken Severus. And to be honest, Harry was very tempted to follow his elder's example and to unchain his own anger on the matter of this mental abuse of a long past time. But really, what good would it be? No, Harry was here to answer the cry for help Severus had sent to him a few minutes, or maybe a few hours ago. And that was what he would do.

Tightening his arms around Severus, Harry started once again the calming rhythm he had tested successfully not so long ago. "Shhh... Don't think about that. Just listen to the music." He encouraged Severus. The calming effect of the melody and the gentleness of the voice seemed to succeed perfectly. Severus let go of all his worries and abandoned himself to the magical vibration of the violins and cellos playing more and more softly for him alone.

The older man, who had already quieted, seemed to have used all the reserves of energy he had left. Severus' eyelids were getting heavier with each passing second and he had stopped speaking his thoughts aloud a few minutes ago. The warmth and the comfort of the body behind him, of the firm arms surrounding him and protecting him, were progressively lulling him out of his dream, and into the part of deep dreamless sleep where his body would finally rest.

Only his mind, still unconsciously wary of what could happen to him if the dream suddenly transformed into another nightmare, prevented him to let go totally and slip into this refreshing sleep he needed so much. He was still fighting to keep his eyes open. "Shh, Severus. I'm here to protect you. No one will harm you here with me. You're safe, here. I won't leave you alone. You can sleep peacefully. I'll protect you... go to sleep... shhh..." A gentle, very soft but commanding voice, Harry's, reached him and convinced him to finally relax and let go.

It was some eight hours later that Severus finally woke up. The sun had already invaded his bedroom through a little window and was shining directly on his face, leaving a spot of warmth on his cheek. That was the first sensation that reached his now conscious mind and the feeling was really... nice. This slow return to awareness after the comfort of the night. The first night he had slept through so... peacefully. Stretching his limbs with the grace and the lazy agility of a cat, Severus noticed the absence of the exhaustion and soreness that had plagued him this last week. For the first time in what seemed to be years he was rested and, yes... he was fine. What miracles could do a good, long and peaceful night of sleep, this treasure desired by every insomniac ?

The bed had become in those ten last hours the most comfortable place in the world. Severus had felt safe, calm and warm here, protected in his dreams by a shield that had shattered all dangers and kept the nightmare at bay, offering him this most precious gift. Someone watching over him and allowing him to finally let go of his fears and to give in his needs of reassurance, support and human warmth. This dream had been... strange and yet... so comforting... those arms holding him gently, this heartbeat lulling him into sleep. What a wonderful impression remained from it in these few seconds of semi-conscious state that was separating sleep from full awareness ! A little smile even crept its way to Severus lips and eyes to these slightly blurred memories.

It soon disappeared however soon enough as soon as all the weight of Severus' worries and responsibilities fell back on his shoulders. The time for carefree relaxation and happy dreams had already ended it seemed. Soon enough, Hogwarts' Potions Master settled back in his daily routine.

Half an hour later, Severus was sitting at his spot at the staff table in the Great Hall, for breakfast. Luckily, the first meal of the day was served later during the weekend, or else, Severus would have already missed it. It was quite funny to consider that a chronicle insomniac had overslepped, wasn't it? Here he was anyway, amongst his colleagues, his sharp gaze surveying the long tables of students just in front of him, watching his Slytherins like a hawk, throwing suspicious and haughty looks at the other houses' members. Just as was expected of him.

This routine went on for at least ten minutes before Severus felt the weight of someone observing him, staring at him even, and the stirring of a question sent to him creeping at the edge of his mind. Scanning the large room, he quickly found the source of this strong sensation: Harry Potter had his eyes fixed upon him, in a slightly puzzled and expectant expression. The intensity of this inquisitive stare startled and puzzled greatly Severus. Why would the boy look at him like that? What was he expecting from him? And most of all, what could have happened since yesterday to explain this change of... interest.

A flash of blurred images suddenly came, images of his dream he had already almost dismissed as just that, mere images of dream. He remembered being extremely cold, shivering against a... chest, arms holding him tightly and then looking up to see who had saved him to recognise immediately Harry Potter. And then, he had concluded that the boy had to be only a part of his dream, and nothing more, even if Potter was adamant he was really here. He had... talked to this illusion, he did not really remember about what, but he knew he had felt good there for those few hours.

Severus' eyes widened with a new realisation. The only thing that had changed between them in the last 12 hours that could explain this new interest the boy seemed to have found in Severus' contemplation was... their encounter in the dream. Could it be that Dream-Harry was more than an illusion after all? A question made way to his eyes, the twin of the one that now was shining in Harry's eyes.

Letting his mental shields down a little, Severus opened himself to the link he shared with his young husband. As soon as Harry felt it, he tentatively expressed his confusion and sent his hesitant question telepathically "The dream, last night... you had it too, didn't you?"

His suspicions now confirmed, Severus took a calming breath before he could answer. "I believe so... I can't remember everything but... I think so" With that, he sent the image he had just recalled from the depth of his unconscious to Harry who received it with quite a shock. He was now reliving a moment of their shared experience just as Severus had lived it, with all the sensations, the cold, the lingering fear, and then, the spreading warmth, the realisation of a feeling of comfort and safety, and finally, the surprise of the discovery. It took his breath away for a few second. It had been so intense, the good feelings as well as the negative ones. The dream had left an impression so strong in Severus... wow. And above all, it seemed that Harry's presence had made a difference for the distressed man. A strangely comforting information for the younger man who felt suddenly overwhelmed by pride and joy at his capacity to touch his spouse...

It took at least two minutes before Harry could send a response of sorts, babbling nervously mentally. "Yes, I remember. You were drowning in the lake and I had to levitate you out of the water... And then, I tried my best to help you. I didn't know what to do so I only made sure that you were not cold... you were nearly frozen you see and, well..."

"I remember as much now, as you evoke those events... So we were really in the same dream... we were sharing it." This conclusion did not really need to be stated, but the words seemed to help Severus gathering his thoughts. "I wonder how it could happen... or is it another effect of our soul bond ?" he asked, more to himself than to Harry, even if the question reached the boy as well.

"That would be my guess too. At one moment I heard a cry for help, a very loud scream in fact. And I was pulled to it and that's when I found you. I would say that in the brink of your nightmare, you dropped your shields and the connection between us came to life." The mechanisms of the whole phenomena were now clearer to both of them and they now agreed on that theory. No need to dwell on it anylonger.

Already other concerns had invaded Harry's mind and he immediately `voiced' them carefully, eager to use the link for as long as Severus would permit it. "You seemed really exhausted... and I don't mean only in the dream... The past week was pretty hard on you and..."

He was quickly interrupted by Severus. This last change of topic had startled him too much. If Severus was ready to discuss about the dream, because it had involved both of them and more precisely their mental bond, ant that it really needed to be clarified, questions and worries about his health were another matter altogether. Severus was not ready yet to discuss his weakness... "I'm feeling better now." He cut Harry abruptly before adding as an afterthought "thank you", not really sure if it was a polite answer to Harry's concerns or the grateful acknowledgement of all the gentle attention the boy had offered him during the dream.

Whichever it was, Severus decided not to dwell on it one more second and quickly raised his mental shields, putting an end to their `conversation'. The next minute, the Potions Master stood and left the Great Hall to his private quarters, in the dungeons.

He didn't remember everything that had happened in what he now knew had been `their' dream. And maybe the details were not so important after all. But Severus had the lingering impression that both of the had got closer to each other than they had ever been in the years they had known each other.

Emotionally and even intimately, as if they had shared a true moment of understanding and compassion. If they chose to acknowledge it or not was another matter altogether, but something had changed between them during that night. Whatever had happened had at least managed to build the first foundations of something neither of them had expected to find in each other: trust. Not the kind of trust that you could expect from an ally, someone you trusted to help you to fight your common enemy. No, it was something much deeper. Something stronger and more complete. It was the trust that told you that you could let go with someone else, that your emotions and the most private part of your soul were safe with the other person, that you could rely on them with anything. On this night, the first stone of their relationship had been firmly settled.

Chapter 14: Full Moon and Discoveries.

Professor Remus Lupin was the last one to settle at the staff table for lunch on this particular Tuesday. Weariness and the weight of his long accepted condition were especially easy to read on his face at this time of the lunar cycle. Tonight would be the full moon. For anyone else, it would not change anything. But because he was a werewolf, to him, it would mean a very painful transformation, the sensation of his limbs stretching so much they broke to finally take the shape that was dictated by the illness that had plagued his life since he had been five years old. Oh, he knew the sensation only too well ! the excruciating torture of the process and its memory were now eternally carved in every nerve of his body.

And then the wolf would destroy any trace of his humanity and overcome his consciousness. Remus would become the wolf he had come to hate so much. The human in him didn't really remember any detail of those nights, except for some impressions that remained and often haunted his dreams. The wolf spirit, a twisted beast, made crazy by the all mighty blood lust that was pure instinct... It couldn't stand being locked in a room as he was, to protect the humans from his wilderness. The wolf would be a lot less aggressive if he could have been free, if he could run in the forest and hunt, not necessarily humans, but any prey that would cross his path. If he had any company, anyone he could consider packmates to join him in his wild wanderings, he would forget for a time the panic of being held prisoner and be calmer and a little less dangerous to anyone and to himself. Yes, to himself: full moon after full moon, the caged wild wolf was in a mad frenzy and often attacked himself, biting, cutting and even throwing himself against walls, stopping only when he was too bloody and broken to go on.

When he had been a student in Hogwarts, some twenty years ago, he had had friends who were there for him during his full moon transformations. They had become animagi for him and had managed to calm the wolf, playing the part of packmates for him on those nights. That had helped, of course. The pain of the transformation was always there, but at least, the wolf didn't hurt himself anymore. The Marauders had been great friends to him, even if they had not quite understood the amount of pain he was under each month. For them, the animagus transformation was immediate and was more a magical transfiguration than a physical transformation. For them, their monthly wild runs in the forest with him were more a game, an occasion for fun, than anything else. They could not really understand the torture and the dread. But they had been there for him. The years after Hogwarts had been extremely hard in this matter. Once again, he was alone with the moon and the wolf. Once again his bones were broken and his skin deeply cut when he woke up human in the morning. For years the same torture, the same fear of the full moon, the same resignation, the same pain, both physical and mental. The loneliness was weighting heavily on him. With no distraction, no friends or serious relationships, it was as if Remus had lived a decade waiting resigned and exhausted for the next full moon. It often took him more than one week to heal from the injuries the wolf had inflicted on his body.

He had even wondered if he would be able to go on like that for much longer when Dumbledore's letter had reached him, asking him if he would be willing to come to Hogwarts and become the new DADA teacher, three years ago. That had saved his sanity and his fragile health from falling further down. Feeling useful, being trusted and integrated here as a colleague and even a friend. And of course, the wolfsbane potion had made miracles for him physically. As a direct effect of the potion, the wolf was calmed, sedated even. Of course the transformation still happened as usual, with the minutes of excruciating pain and the exhaustion afterward, but there were no more self inflicted injuries.

And thus it had been since the first full moon of school term, three years ago. Every month, Hogwarts' Potions Master would brew the elixir that had changed his life and given him a second chance. Even after his resignation, Severus had still sent it to him regularly, making sure that it would never lack. Then, after Voldemort's return, Dumbledore had somehow managed to blackmail the school board members into letting him back as the DADA teacher once again. There were not so many people the old wizard could trust in this position. And therefor, Remus had found his home once again. It was one year now, and Remus was still grateful beyond what words could tell, really he was. Headmaster Dumbledore and Severus Snape, in spite of his more than unpleasant manners and scornful behaviour, had earned his absolute respect and fidelity.

But days like that, just before the full moon, Remus Lupin couldn't help but feel the full weight of the curse that had sentenced him to such strain and promised pain. Waiting anxiously for the hours and minutes separating him from this circle of light that would appear high in the sky to pass away. Counting the hours and telling himself that when it would be done, he would be free for another twenty eight days... On such days, a note of despair, acceptance and weariness were so easy to read in his eyes. And this particular Tuesday was no exception.

Sitting heavily at his usual spot next to Severus and sighing deeply, Remus started to fill his plate with the kind of rich food that would provide him with energy during this long and exhausting night. He was still rummaging through those usual and depressing feelings, not really turning his attention to whatever could happen around him, among the staff or the students, when a cutting and cold voice broke into his sad reflections.

"Lupin! LUPIN! Come out of it Lupin and answer me!" Severus seemed really annoyed with him this time. Not that he was ever really nice with anyone, but the scornful expression majestically spread on this pale face clearly showed that the irascible Potions Master was indeed... irritated.

"Severus? Excuse me I was a little distracted. Did you want anything?" Remus asked in a mild and very polite tone that was meant to appease Severus' cold anger. Or to try to anyway.

"Finally! I would expect a wolf would have a better hearing. I'm trying to get your attention since you arrived five minutes ago" And once again, Severus could not make a sentence without insulting him. That had become frustrating. And always the right word, the one that was sure to hurt his feelings. `Wolf'... the day of the full moon.

"As I was saying, I'm sorry" Remus repeated his excuse sighing deeply. There was no use hoping to amend Severus' social habits. That would only poison the conversation before it had really begun. Letting the insult slide unnoticed, Remus added in a voice he tried to keep placatingly nice. "What did you want anyway?"

"I'll need to talk to you tonight, after diner. I'll come to your quarters at 7PM." That was not even a request. That was a simple statement. The nerve of this man, really!

`He had said `tonight' ... hey wait a minute' Remus suddenly thought. Was it a sick joke? Coming to him the night of the full moon... really! "Severus I'm sorry but you can't" he calmly said, with a meaningful glance, expecting the Potions Master to understand the unspoken reason of his refusal. Severus however didn't seem to change his mind. His black eyes were still digging a hole in Remus' forehead, clearly stating that his request was still between them and that the refusal he had received had not been and would not be accepted.

It was not often that his old schoolmate and now colleague would willingly start a conversation with Remus, let alone request anything from him, a mere Gryffindor and a disgusting werewolf. It was quite surprising in fact. Usually, Severus would avoid any contact with... quite everybody. He would reject any attempt from anyone to come closer to him with cold and cutting sarcasm, mixed with mean anger and smartly painful remarks. So those few words, spoken in an annoyed tone were certainly hiding or promising something special, something serious and most certainly important. Severus would not bother if it wasn't the case. That simple reflection and observation, coupled with the trust he had for his colleague anyway, told Remus to consider the request he would normally be so reluctant to even look upon twice before rejecting it definitely.

"It's the full moon tonight, Severus. Surely you must understand that you can't possibly come and visit me under such circumstances..." Remus whispered exasperated after a few instant of this uneasy silence.

"I was aware of this fact, Lupin. Thank you very much!" Severus' voice was once again dripping with sarcasm, before his tone became much more serious and he added firmly. "I still need to talk to you. It's important and can't be delayed. I'm sure even you can understand that! It's about your potion... I've made some discoveries this weekend, some possible modifications, you'll see. But I haven't enough time to talk to you right now. I still have some details to take care before the afternoon class begin." Already Severus had finished his meal, his plate not quite finished but already pushed away. There was no denying that the man was in a hurry to run out of the Great Hall to get back to his labs. "So? Well, Lupin ?", he finally asked, already standing up.

"What? Oh... okay... yes, come tonight at 7PM."Remus answered absentmindedly. `What? His potion? Discoveries? Modifications?' these three words had shocked him deeply. A mixed feeling of fear and hope, wrapped in a huge blanket of confusion invaded his mind. Discoveries. Was it positive or was it a new problem the Potions Master had found out? Could he hope that the elixir that had made his life bearable had been ameliorated? What was it? Hundreds of questions were pressing themselves in his brain. "My Potion? Modifications? What sort of modifications? What do you mean, Severus?" Remus finally asked when he had come out of his dazed state. But no response came. Focusing his gaze at the spot beside him, he noticed bewildered that Severus was already gone.

The sun was nearly set and the moon was going to rise in the sky in the next hour when Remus finally heard the firm knock at his door he had been waiting and dreading during the whole afternoon. The worry that had awakened in him at the cryptic mention Severus had made at lunch had not left him at any moment of the remainder of the day. And the few minutes that had just passed away, the last that were separating from 7PM and the answers that he awaited so feverishly, had been the worst. Pacing the length of his small sitting room, his fingers dancing nervously and tapping rhythmically on the side of his thigh, he couldn't help but throw numerous and repeated glances at the clock on the wall. Finally, the three short but loud knock at his door had at least delivered him from this agony of waiting.

Running to the door, Remus opened it wide immediately, not even bothering to ask who was behind it. As he expected and hoped, Severus Snape was standing there, already about to knock again after only a few seconds. Always the impatient and nervous one, Remus thought distractedly, before his eyes finally noticed a small vial in Severus' hand. That caught his attention and left him nervous, fidgeting and yet slightly relieved. His potion, no doubt. At least Severus had not come here to tell him that he wouldn't brew it for him anymore.

"Ah, Severus, right on time! Please, do come in,." Remus hurried to invite him in, stepping away from the doorway to let Severus in and finally closing the door behind them with locking and silencing spells. Even if everyone knew of his `illness', the werewolf didn't appreciate his condition to be discussed everywhere and having anyone interrupting them would have been both embarrassing and greatly annoying.

In a few long strides, Severus had already reached the other side of the room. Remus' quarters were by no mean very large or luxurious, but they were really practical and comfortable. Sparsely furnished with a desk at one side, bookshelves on the walls, a sofa under the window, two armchairs and a coffee table near the fire place, the room was however no doubt the best the poor werewolf had lived in for the last twenty years. Severus was now standing rigidly in front of the hearth, watching his surroundings, when Remus turned his attention from the door to his guest. Joining him, Lupin gestured him to take a sit in one of his two armchairs and sat in the other.

"Can I bring you something to drink, a whiskey or some tea, maybe..." Remus, always the nice and polite host, offered to Severus, trying thus to show his good will to the man who seemed to consider him an enemy and a monster, a man who had ever had anything to do with his colleague and old schoolmate only reluctantly at best. The usual cold and defiant look in those black eyes talked volumes about that after all, didn't they?

"No, not for me. Listen, Lupin, I didn't come here to waste a time I don't have on pleasantries" Severus, as always all business, snapped back. "The moon is going to rise in less than an hour, if I'm not mistaken." He stated coldly as a way of an explanation.

"Yes, at 7:54PM, to be exact." Remus specified on the same tone. He had always considered remarks about the full moon and his condition as attacks when they came from Snape. But taking too much umbrage of it would not help him anyway and would certainly not change the cold and sarcastic man in front of him. That was the way Snape had always appeared to be to Remus, after all, no matter how many peace offerings Lupin had thrown in his direction. Snape wanted to be matter of factly direct with him... Remus would just follow his example. "I understand you wanted to talk to me about the wolfsbane potion?" He inquired.

"Yes. As I was saying, I made some experiments and researches these past few months and I think I managed to bring some positive modifications to the original version of the potion. I shall spare you the technical details as I know how pathetic your skills are in Potions." The little insult didn't go unnoticed, but Remus chose not to react. He was too eager to learn what all this meeting, this mysterious experiment were all about for that. He merely nodded his head, indicating that he was waiting for what the Potions Master would be willing to tell him.

"If my information is accurate, of which I don't doubt for one instant, the wolfsbane potion you are now usually drinking only operates on one symptom of your lycanthropy. It reduces the bloodlust and the aggressive instincts of the wolf during the transformation." Severus took a moment, waiting for the silent confirmation of that piece of knowledge, and went on with his `lesson'. "Far from me to criticise the work of my fellow Potions masters, but this formula was only conceived as a protection for the muggle and magical populations against the threat of a wild werewolf, a sort of magical sedative, nothing else. Those so called masters dare to call that potion a cure for the Lycanthropy... what a joke. That's a political step, nothing more. The werewolf is not cured at all, only neutralised at best. They don't know anything at potions and the infinity of possibilities that one can expect to actually reach and make real thanks to them. They are only narrow minded little brewers, all of them... I'll show them what a true potions master can do !" those last sarcastic and harsh remarks aimed at witches and wizard who had not and never would have the gift he had with Potions, were accompanied with a derisive snort that soon disappear to assume again his cold and scientific blankness.

Remus would have rolled his eyes at this last outburst, so much in character was it of Severus to despise and condemn mediocrity when he couldn't understand that not everyone could be a genius in the difficult and elusive art of potions. But there, Remus had entertained the same kind of reflections about this particular matter. The wizarding world had such a cruel policy when it came to magical creatures and humans plagued by magical maladies like lycanthropy or vampirism. The ministry, and the whole magical people in general indeed, had always been happy to cast them out of the normal society, condemning them to errant and precarious lives, hate and violence. They didn't even consider all the sufferings those conditions represented for the victims of those illness and curses. No, they only were looking for arms to tame or kill them, not cure or heal them. And in all that, the wolfsbane potion was as much a means to control and diminish a threat as a real progress and hope for the werewolves. Oh, no! Remus wouldn't have said better than Severus on this topic.

"Well, anyway," Severus went on, "I've done some research, some experiments and found a new and better formula for the wolfsbane potion. It should directly operate on the symptoms of your illness, more precisely on the process of the transformation itself and on the control you have on yourself as long as it lasts. And since I have a werewolf here at my disposal, I was hoping that you would be willing to test its new effects tonight. Of course, you must realise that it's highly experimental and that, even if I'm confident there shouldn't be any drawback or ill effects to it, I can't be one hundred percent sure of the results. You can always refuse. I still have a cauldron of the classical wolfsbane potion downstairs, in my lab. But if you accept, I need to be here to monitor, control, observe and record the results. And I mean the whole night."

Once again, Severus had chosen to present his case very matter of factly, exposing his proposition as coldly as ever, the scientific interest seemingly at the fore front. Finally he asked the object of his intended experiment" So, what do you say?"

Remus was really bewildered by the whole situation. Severus was coming here with what could really be a true treasure for him, the beginning of a cure, if he had well understood, and was acting as if it was nothing important, only an scientific experiment. Only a new field of research in the Potions area for the brilliant master, nothing else. Announcing it coldly as if it was nothing much, very casually, or as casually it could be for Severus, just a few minutes before the full moon... And all that when it was what Remus had hoped and dreamt for during decades... Lupin was left speechless for a few minutes, the mix of hope, disbelief, gratitude and annoyance swirling wildly in his mind. That was a dream, surely a dream... or else, the modifications were nothing too noticeable, maybe. What had Snape said: transformation and control ? Admonishing himself not to get his hopes too high before he knew what it really encompassed, Remus forced himself to look directly in Snape's eyes and ask the question that could maybe change his cursed life.

"When you say that it would operate on the process of transformation and on my control, what do you mean exactly?" Remus'voice was now full of emotions, shaking slightly in anticipation and dread.

Severus seemed quite annoyed to have to explain himself further, but complied anyway. "Well, first of all, the process of the transformation should be totally different. Not only in the way you would feel it, but in its nature. Until now, it is a physical process, mechanical even, if we consider that your limbs, skin, organs slowly work themselves in other shapes and functions. It must be quite painful I presume" The shuddering reaction Remus displayed at this statement was answer enough and Severus went on with his explanations. "With the potion, the transformation should become a transfiguration, which means that it should be immediate and totally painless. Sort of like the animagus process. And of course, like the animagus, your spirit, your mind, your human self will stay at the fore front during the whole night. The wolf instincts will be here too, but mixed with and submitted to your human reason and consciousness. You will be in control, not the wolf. But, as I was saying, it's only experimental and I'd like to be here to control the results by myself. So..."

Remus was not even listening to him anymore. His mind had stopped registering any information after he had heard that tonight, and for the remainder of his life, there was a chance that he would escape from the torture of the transformation and keep the control of his body and of his mind. That simple notion was mind-blowing. Living so many years like that; managing to convince himself that he could live like that and that he had accepted his lot and that there was no way out of it, and one day, he was offered such an opportunity, such a present. Someone had cared enough to take time and research some kind of cure for lycanthropy when everyone despised and hated werewolves, his kind. Was it Christmas today? Remus was stupefied, literally stupefied by that wonderful news, nearly unable to contain tears of joy and relief to finally open his mouth.

"Severus... it's..." Remus was even unable to find the good term to qualify this situation and the present he had just been offered so liberally.

Mistaking this quite miserable attempt at talking for a polite hesitation, Severus added a few lines of explanations and reassurance. "I know, it's not a total cure yet. You still have to take the form of a wolf every full moon. But I'm still working on it. I'm sure I'll find something one day. This field of research is so complex and interesting. You can't imagine the beauty of this potion and the possibilities that still can be added to its efficiency..."

"No, Severus it's not that..." Remus tried to explain himself with a shaking voice but was once again interrupted by the now slightly enthusiastic Potions Master. "What is it? What's the matter? Oh! I get it. You wouldn't be comfortable with me around to witness your transformation. But it's quite necessary for me in order to analyse the effects and control any drawback it could occasion. Not that you should worry about that. I assure you that the potion is not dangerous and that everything should go fine. I'm 99,9% sure of..." Severus' pleading for `science's sake' was once again interrupted by Remus. More forcefully this time.

"SEVERUS! That's not that at all. Of course you can stay tonight." Remus assured him when he had the Potions Master full attention, before adding in a soft and emotional tone "I only wanted to say that it was a wonderful news. More than that. Miraculous even. I can't find the right word. It's more than I could ever hope. I don't see how I could show you how grateful I am, really..."

Severus, quite embarrassed, as he was much more accustomed to acerbic conversation than to professions of undying gratitude, brutally broke this emotional display. He stood up, turned away and walked in nervous steps to the small coffee table, at the other side of the room, on which two glasses were near bottles of whiskey, butterbeer and cognac. Taking one of them, he emptied the small vial he had brought with him in it. With three quick steps, his mask of cold efficiency once again settled on his face, he came back at Remus' sides and presented him with the Potion with firm words of explanations that sounded like orders. "You'd better drink it now. The moon will be up in less than ten minutes."

Receiving the glass in trembling and very respectful hands, Remus fixed his eyes on Severus and sincerely and wholeheartedly said "Thank you, Severus", before drinking the draught. He didn't know what he had been expecting for, maybe some fire works, some big explosion of music and colours to match his immense hope and joy at the prospect of having his life changed so drastically and positively. But nothing like that. First, his senses registered the special taste of the draught, totally unlike the usual rotten, bitter and nauseously foul flavour of the Wofbane potion. A fresh sensation invaded his mouth, along with the wild strength of herbs and spices.

Then the power of the potion was freed and began spreading from his mouth down his throat and soon all over his body, in each limb, in each cell of blood or flesh, in each millimetre of his skin. A tingling sensation, a warmth, an electrical arc wrapped themselves around his whole being. Remus was overwhelmed by the reaction to the potion. He could practically feel it working its magic in him, slowly, or was it incredibly quickly, transforming his nature, his plague, what was making him the werewolf he hated so much, making it... something else. Dear God... he had not expected that, this thorough change of his nature. Did it mean that the effects of this new potion would be permanent? That he would never again have to fear he would forget to take the potion and hurt someone ?

Soon enough, all thought had disappeared from his mind as Remus abandoned himself to the warm intensity of the magic working on him. His eyes closed, he remained there, standing in front of the window, his right side now lightly leaning against the wall for support for what could have been hours or mere seconds, Remus didn't know. The next moment, finally, the effects of the potion settled in each cell of his body and he felt normal, once again.

Opening his eyes, he found himself staring at a bright circle of light shining in the night sky: the full moon. Without even noticing it, his point of view changed instantly. Remus was now seeing it from a much lower point of view, as if he was no longer standing but kneeling by the window-sill instead. And his eyesight was tenfold sharper. He could now see details of the dark Forbidden Forrest. Its flavour was reaching his nostrils, its noises running to his hears as loudly as if he was there. This rush of sensation was very difficult to take in at first, so weird did it seem to Remus' human mind, but in a way, it felt... right, normal, as if it had been years that he had inherited those capacities...

Turning his attention upon himself, Remus found himself staring at black and grey furred legs, paws ended by sharp claws, his legs... Startled at first, Remus was quick however to put the pieces of the puzzle together. He was now in wolf form... and he had not even been aware of it before his eyes had told him so, or the change itself when it had occurred. That was a first, and a very good reason to rejoice... so quick and painless that he had not even noticed it. And he could still think like a human, and not like a rabid beast. He felt like howling at the moon right now, let his black furred tail dance happily to show everyone his delight. Well... okay, he had obviously kept some wolfish instincts in this form, but all of them controlled by him, by Remus, the human. Wow! The world was suddenly more beautiful for this particular werewolf.

The first minutes of open joy passed, leaving behind them a light feeling of elation, Remus turned around and started to stroll around the room, examining it with his new found senses. And of course there was the other wizard in his quarter, Snape. That was something quite new, having someone with him when he was in this form, new and comforting. A pack mate, a part of his mind supplied for him, someone who appeared to accept him like that and who had shown time after time he was trustworthy when it came to protecting what Remus considered his pack, Dumbledore, Harry, himself, and how many others, someone ready to fight and defend the better interests of the pack no matter what... Hell, he had healed him! No doubts remained in him: Remus, both the man and the wolf, had definitely accepted him as family, as an equal.

However, looking more closely at Severus, Remus could tell that the other man was not really at peace right now. Yes, he was still here, which meant a lot. But Severus was standing still in the shadows, near the door, his wand firmly held in front of himself in his right fist, the other hand grasping the doorknob, an anxious look on his face, his eyes stubbornly following every moves the wolf had done. Remus could nearly smell fear and maybe even panic flowing from him. Very understandable, if you considered the fact that the last time Snape had witnessed Remus' transformation, during their sixth year as students here, he had nearly been killed. And there was certainly also the fact that the Potions Master, if very secure of his gift in his art, could not let himself forget about the dangers that would bring a failure in this particularly experimental potion. Tonight was a test, Remus remembered Severus had told him.

Step after slow and careful step, the wolf came closer to the tense wizard, deliberately taking every aggressive or threatening gesture or attitude out of his behaviour. When he was four or five feet away from Severus, Remus decided that being closer would more likely make the other man nervous, if anything else. He sat down on the floor and turned his head expectantly up toward him, tilting it lightly in sort of acknowledgement and waiting patiently for a reaction other than this distrust that was still radiating from the Potions Master.

And sure enough, after one or two minutes of this display of good intentions, Severus appeared to relax a little. His eyes narrowed and fixed upon the wolf, he slowly let his left hand slide from the doorknob. It was obvious he had released a little tension before he managed to ask in a weary "Lupin, is that you in there?".

And yet another problem as it seemed coming from being an animal. He could hardly answer him in any kind of words... so gestures it was. Nodding and barking softly at the same time, Remus gave an affirmative answer to Severus' inquiry... which appeared to be understood fairly well. The remainder of the tension that still animated the nervous man eased away as Severus lowered his wand by his side and after a little hesitation, put it away in his sleeve. The blank expression on his face already had come back, not that Remus had been expecting anything else from the colder and most emotionless person he had ever met.

In three or four long strides, the man was once again at the other side of the parlour, by the fireplace and was working on turning one of the armchairs around to face the rest of the room. With a discreet sigh, the Potions Master fell on it wearily. That was something that Remus had noticed lately about his colleague. He seemed more tired than usual. May be there was something wrong with him and as usual, the stubborn Potions Master had acted just as if every thing was perfectly fine... the nerve of that man, sometimes...

This musing was interrupted by the sharp and ever serious voice of the man who occupied Remus' thoughts. "Well, I think that we should begin to test every effect of the new potion. I have established a procedure in order to experiment a few aspects of it, mainly to establish what are your limits in this form, what part of the human and eventually what part of the wolf you can access in this state, as well as checking a few details and looking for ill after effects." Severus started to explain on a lecture mode lightened by his obvious scientific interest.

"Now, are you okay with it and are you ready to proceed?" he asked then, as an after thought, as if it was only then that he had come to the conclusion that maybe Remus had a word to say about this matter that was concerning him the most. The man in wolf form would have liked to roll his eyes at this realisation but decided that it would not help the matter at all. He only nodded his answer.

Summoning magically a piece of parchment and a quill, Severus straightened in his seat and turned his full attention toward the object of his experiment. "Perfect. First, I have to check a few things with you. One: about the transformation. It was immediate, that's obvious, and similar to an animagus transfiguration. Now, how did you feel? Was it painful?" He read from his ten inchs parchments full of questions. And Remus answered, shaking his head. The prospect of having to go through the whole list of question was really not pleasant, and most of them boring, but he would cooperate as best as he could.

Not one second after his answer had been registered by the new incarnation of the mad scientist in front of him, an other question had been spoken, expecting his answer. And so it went on for more than two hours and a half. Severus had not only settled to ask questions but also had wanted to test some of his abilities, his magic, his senses, his reasoning abilities... and so on and so on until Remus' mind was more exhausted than it had ever been. Well, it seemed so at least. He had never imagined that the wolf could even suffer from headache before.

And this smell, this light but permanent smell that was surrounding him now. Now, better, that was crowding him. The wolf, the animal instinct in Remus, had sensed it more than two hours ago, just after the transformation in fact. But it had not been threatening, so he had not really worried about it. But the boredom and the annoyance it represented when it added to Remus headache had made it come to the human side of Remus' attention. It was not very strong, quite subtle, not like a perfume someone would have vaporised in the room. Nothing like that... it was human... hormonal in fact. Yes, hormones... the wolf instinct told it to Remus. Concentrating on it even more, series of information came to his awareness. Those were female hormones, produced by... yes... pregnant women... and still there was something more, something a little more male mixed with it... It was really disturbing.

Forgetting everything about Severus' interrogations and experiments, Remus started to walk all around the sitting room in the hope he would find the origin of this annoying and yet so intriguing smell. No, not around the entrance door, not by the desk, nor by his bookshelves, not by the window... the fireplace, maybe... not the hearth... not his armchair... not Severus' armchair... hey! Wait a minute here... yes, here, it was here that the smell was the strongest... around Severus... But why? That was impossible... it would mean that Severus Snape was... no, certainly not... that was IMPOSSIBLE... and yet... there was no other explanation, was there... Severus was...pregnant ?

Sniffing carefully at the air around Severus times after times for maybe ten minutes, Remus had to come to the conclusion that his mad assumption had to be the best explanation for this hormonal storm. That revelation was more than disturbing and highly unbelievable... and yet, the facts were there. Remus felt suddenly a little dizzy at this news which truth he could not deny... once again the facts were there. He could hardly think a thing straight, shocked and overwhelmed as he was by the surprise of this whole situation. Then questions and hypothesis rushed to the front of his mind. Not that it was absolutely impossible to achieve a male pregnancy with magical means... there were cases of such occurrences every century or so... But the process necessitated so much magical power to work and demanded so much energy to the pregnant man that it was really rare. One thing for sure, however, was that it could not be an accident. Knowing how it had happened was not even the problem... the true question was why would Severus be or want to be pregnant. It was not as if he was in any romantic relationship and wanted to have a family. Hell, he always acted as if he hated the children he had to teach potions to ! And who would want to have a child with Snape so much that they would impregnate him? That was a bit radical, wasn't it? Without even considering the fact that the man had no known lover, as far as anyone at Hogwarts knew... Weird... supremely weird ! Or maybe it had been forced on him by someone else... for some purpose he could not really understand or even start to discern...

All these ideas and questions were swirling madly in Remus' mind for more than ten minutes which could be hours or seconds, for all the grasp that the man in wolf form still had, or better had no longer, on his surrounding and the world. But another part of him, the less human part, the wolf instinct that had remained mixed with his human mind, kicked him into reality with simple but strong inner exasperated admonishment. `Stop wasting time with those questions. That's not what's important here? Don't you see? Your packmate is expecting cubs, the future of the pack. He is vulnerable and fragile and needs protection in his condition, not useless questions.'

And indeed, focussing his attention once again on the man in front of him and not in his inner storm of hypothesis and surprise, Remus could finally see the lines of exhaustion and of stress on his face, the dark shadows under his eyes, the weariness of the body too thin for Severus' well being and health, and... oops, a lingering exasperation too, certainly at being ignored for so long by the object of his experiment.

"Ah, finally, Lupin ! you decided to come back on earth with us poor mortal wizards. Too generous from you, Lupin!" The Potions Master exclaimed sarcastically, a very annoyed look in the eye. "I have lost more than half an hour of observations with your display of disinterest. Can we get back to work, now, Lupin?" he snarled this question and had a thoughtful expression on his face for an instant before picking up his quill. "Has trouble to keep his attention fixed on anything more than a few hours", he whispered as his hand wrote on this note in the corner of his parchment.

His wolf hearing catching the soft words, Remus felt the immediate urge to roll his eyes upward once again but restrained himself from reacting to the comment. The man didn't need that, as it seemed... considering his condition... No, Remus didn't even want to think about it right now and settled instead on keeping a watchful eye on Severus, observing the thinness of his hands, the paleness of his skin, the general miserable health he had managed to put himself in. The more he was watching him, the more Remus'mind was visited by new thoughts urging him to protect the... pregnant man in front of him, to make sure he would take care of himself properly, and be all right for the months to come, when he would become more and more vulnerable, and most of all, to ignore the famous bad temper of the Potions Master, not to let him drive him away.

His patience grew quickly thinner however when the mad scientist in the chair in front of him started to ask new questions and to explain new tests. He had only one desire: to lay on the ground, to groan miserably and to cover his pointed hears with his paws, in the hope he could escape from the boredom and bother of the end of the tests. Instead, he complied with his old schoolmate's orders and submitted himself to the new series of inquiries and experiments.

It finally ended around 1AM, both man and wolf utterly exhausted by the length of concentration necessary for the diverse tests and experiments, and, in Severus' case, as it seemed, by the added effect of a tired body and a neglected health to start with. And the strain of this evening could easily be read on Severus features. His eyelids were heavy and occasionately were falling for a few seconds before opening with a start. A yawn was hidden with difficulty behind one of these long and elegant hands. But the man was as stubborn as could be expected of him. Snape had decided, as Remus guessed, that he should stay awake the whole night long in order to observe the transformation and the werewolf and that was exactly what he was trying to do... neglecting himself so blatantly, once again. Really, that wouldn't do.

Taking careful steps in the most non-threatening way he could manage, Remus made his way toward the man heavily sat in the armchair. Arrived at his feet, he push lightly at Severus' leg with his head, motioning him toward the door on the opposite wall, the one opening to his bedroom. If the man wanted to stay the night here, he could at least get as comfortable as possible in his condition, and with any luck, he would be lured into sleep when his body would touch the bed.

Of course, it would have been really too weird if Snape had complied without protesting. The cries of "What do you want, Lupin? Leave me alone, damn werewolf!" filled the room for a few minutes, but Remus was not impressed. His colleague's bad temper and insulting word had very little effect on him, after so many years. The outraged Potions Master's black robe firmly grasped between his teeth, the human wolf pulled the other man out of his chair and dragged him across the room, through the door and to the bed where he pushed him gently with his two fore paws. Jumping on the bed immediately after that, Remus made sure that the stubborn Slytherin would not get up and try to flee his forced rest by carefully laying on Severus legs.

Sure enough, after the once furious Severus had grown calm and resigned to his sort for the night, the sleep, or more accurately, a heavy slumber, engulfed him quickly. Remus wasn't long to follow his lead.

Chapter 15: Wake up, Sunshine !

Dawn had just spread its dim light upon Hogwarts when Severus Snape woke up on the following morning. The warmth and the comfort of a soft mattress under him were not really good encouragement to travel from the realm of Morpheus to awareness. But the blur of sleep was already evading him, leaving him no choice but opening slowly his eyes. After a fleeting moment of confusion, during which his surroundings and lack of familiarity with them registered in his brain, Severus searched frantically his mind to find an explanation to this unusual situation.

Soon enough, he remembered the events of the previous night. The potion, the werewolf, the experiments and the growing ever-present exhaustion while the night was passing. He had intended to stay fully professional during the whole time of the transformation in order to make perfectly sure that he would not miss any after effect of this new version of the wolfsbane draught. But apparently, his body, his... `condition'... had not agreed with it and had preferred sleep over scientific interest...

And damned Lupin too ! he had dragged him into bed. What was he thinking he was doing? Thinking he was his keeper or something? Really... as if his monitoring the whole transformation was not important for him too? He was suicidal or what? Imagine an accident, a bad reaction to the potion while he was asleep? He could be injured or even dead if a major allergy had occurred... Really reckless and nave sometimes... And speaking about Lupin, where was he?

With this thought in mind, Severus started to stretch his limbs and his still tired muscles. He finally noticed he was not the only occupant of the bed. A quite heavy weight across his feet made it difficult to move his legs. And it had been so for some time now, if the lack of sensitivity from these limbs were any indication of it. Lifting languidly his head to see what it was, Severus could not help but groaning to express his frustration and annoyance: it was Lupin's sleeping body, in human form.

What was he doing here? Couldn't he be left alone sometimes... Really, sleeping on his feet? Damn werewolf and his crazy whims... At least, the transformation back into a human had been as painless as the transformation into a wolf. The potion was a success after all... except maybe this weird lack of attention Lupin had shown for a few minutes during the experiments last night... and obviously this new proof of madness. Sleeping on his feet, really? It was not only annoying but most of all, it was embarrassing. `Damn you, Lupin !'

`Umhh? ...What? ...What is it? What's the matter?' came the unwelcome questions in his mind. Harry, as it seemed, had just woken up thanks to this curse, this rather loud mental call, and still sounded a little sleepy...Severus realised suddenly, sighing deeply. Hell, he had not even thought about shielding his thoughts on his side of their link. Just what he needed right now! `Why do you wake me up at... what time is it... 6:10 AM ! oh crap I could have slept almost one more hour !' he went on complaining, maybe not fully aware of, or even interested in the direction his surprised and annoyed exclamations were taking through the link.

`Go back to sleep then... or better, try to study a little for your potion quiz this morning. You could pass it successfully for once...' Severus snarled to mask his embarrassment and less than calm and centred state of mind.

`Yeah, right... really too early for that, thank you very much...' Harry thought back lightly. `And what was it with the curse anyway ? If I must be awaken at this ungodly hour by your mental insults, which are not even directed to me, maybe I could have some kind of explanation, you know !' he added after a few seconds. His tone was much more daring than usual, but well... it was a bit more difficult to mask his own thoughts than your words. As a matter of fact, their mental talks, as rare as they were, had always been more sincere than any of their actual dialogue. Go figure...

`Nothing that should concern you... only the last foolishness of your godfather's friend.' Severus decided to alleviate the young man's curiosity. He deserved at least that for his brutal wake up call... `I spent last night in his quarters with him to test my new wolfsbane potion and he couldn't help but annoy me and...' the end of the sentence never came.

Severus had decided to flee this humiliating position in Lupin's bed, and was consequently in the process of sitting up. Till there, no problem. But the minute his horizontal position changed into a more vertical one, the room started to dance around him and a dizziness invaded his sensations, soon followed by an overpowering wave of nausea. `Oh God!' his mind cried before Severus ran out of bed, through the door to the nearest bathroom, just beside Lupin's quarters.

Not far away from there, in the Gryffindor Tower, Harry was suddenly very much awake. His wake up call had been quite surreal, in fact. And in a way, he could have supposed and believed that he was still dreaming... a cursing voice in his mind, really! But the next sensation he suddenly received in the middle of his `conversation'was even more disturbing and less than pleasant. He was at once assaulted by... pain and panic... crashing on him, washing away every ounce of sleepiness he could still have left.

Sitting up straight in his bed, Harry could feel cold sweat running down his back, freezing him in this haunted state. But after a first moment of utter surprise and horror, he understood that the sensations, as awful as they were, hadn't come from himself. That was not his pain. There was no physical manifestation in him, only this awareness, this knowledge that had invaded his mind... The mind link... Severus... it had to be Severus... Comprehension dawned on Harry, along with fear... His... `husband'... his pregnant `husband' was ill, violently ill as it seemed. Maybe in danger...

An icy panic, his own this time, took over Harry's consciousness and made him shot out of bed in half a second, run out of Gryffindor tower and toward the place his instinct, and a vague recollection of Snape talking about Professor Lupin's quarters, were telling him he would find the man who needed help... who needed him. The link was still not broken... Harry could almost see Severus running out of Lupin's apartment to the bathroom next door, crashing on the floor of a toilet stall, retching miserably and emptying his stomach.

And sure enough, not twenty seconds after he had received this `SOS', Harry found himself behind him. The spectacle froze him on the spot, in fright, pity and slight disgust. Severus was the true image of sickness: a dark figure bent over the porcelain of the toilets, his thin frame brutally shaken by the fits of nausea, his breathing shallow and difficult, his hair hanging dangerously around the shadowed face. The scene was not one of the prettiest Harry had ever seen... far from it, in fact. And that acid and bitter smell already floating in the air didn't help either. It was kind of revolting and repulsive, even if a touch of pity couldn't but enter the equation too. This quite... disgusting vision was a suffering man too, after all... his... husband. Hadn't he sworn assistance to his... spouse after all.

This first moment of hesitation quickly passed and Harry found himself acting totally instinctively, his Gryffindor sense of responsibility and honour in hyperdrive, for the older man's well being. That seemed the most important thing to do right now, no matter the reasons. Harry's fear for Severus' health was still greatly present at the foremost of his preoccupations. But to be frank, he quite didn't know what he could do concretely to alleviate Severus' obvious pain and illness. He had thought one second about asking for help from someone who would know... Madame Pomfrey, maybe... but had rejected the idea as soon as it had been born. For one thing, the time to get to Poppy and to bring her here, maybe a whole fifteen minutes would have passed, and Severus would have been left alone in the worst of the crisis. And one other matter was that Harry feared that any physical examination could bring into light his husband's condition... and that would be a danger that they had decided not to risk. That left only him to help Severus right now...

Maybe some basic gestures of reassurance and of comfort would be something, wouldn't it ? After all, if it had been Ron or Hermione, that was exactly what he would do for them. Soon, he was kneeling just beside Severus, hesitating just one moment before landing a hand on one shoulder. The immediate flinching reaction that followed, and the strong feeling of unease that travelled through the mind link stated clearly that any physical contact was being perceived as extremely uncomfortable. Harry however didn't risk himself at talking, guessing that any word from him, or anyone else for that matter, would not be of any help... and more certainly increase Snape's less than good mood.

To be totally objective, Severus couldn't care less at this particular moment in time about what was happening in the world, if the Apocalypse had come, or if Voldemort had decided to attack Hogwarts. All he could think about was his wish that people would let him die in peace. For a man as proud and controlled as Severus Snape, this display of weakness was properly intolerable. Only feeling himself losing control over his body in such a miserable way was entirely disgusting. And having someone else to witness it was only adding to his embarrassment, shame and selfdisgust.

A moment of panic had even threatened to overwhelm him at the first symptoms of what he knew was morning sickness. It had taken him by surprise, the one day he had not slept in his own quarters. Luck was really not his best friend. Severus had hoped against reason that he would escape from this predicament for a few more weeks at least, if not at all. He should have known better than that. He was a man after all, and his physiology was less adapted to his condition than any woman's, even with the fertility spell. He should have guessed that the `little niceties' of pregnancy would not leave him alone even one moment.

Add to that the actual physical aspect of this already horribly pathetic situation and euthanasia didn't sound too bad or aggressive when compared to this fit of nausea. This impression that he could choke in an instant. The awful sensation that his revolted stomach would dissolve and come out of his mouth... along with all sorts of other organs. If you added to that the deep chill that had assaulted his body and the cold sweat that was covering his limbs and anyone would understand that being touched, feeling this physical invasion of his personal space that was already so much threatened, would definitely not be welcomed. Anyone but Potter... as it seemed. Damn the boy and his Gryffindor instincts ! That was his fault, after all ! He hadn't impregnated himself alone... and now, he couldn't see his `dear husband Harry James the famous Potter' throwing up his dinner in the toilets, could he? Life had its huge burdens of unfairness at times... And what was the damn boy doing here anyway, hmmm?

The majority of this mix of pain and anger reached Harry's mind perfectly. Clearly translated, it meant `Leave me alone, bloody hell!'. But that did not seem enough to deter Harry from advancing his other hand to hold Snape's black hair back and away from his face. The hand that had remained on the sick man's shoulder slowly slid to the middle of his back and started a calming rubbing motion unconsciously meant to soothe him and ease the stress out of him. And sure enough, after a few moments of these ministrations, the tremors that were travelling through Severus' body began to recede a little. If nothing else, this simple reaction reassured Harry a little about his supposed lack of medical usefulness.

Two or three minutes later, the retching subsided and Severus finally unbent into a sitting position. Exhausted, he automatically leaned lightly against the nearest support, namely Harry's chest, to the boy's silent surprise and embarrassment. Only one look at him was enough to understand how weak he still was after this ordeal. His skin was even paler than usual, with a light touch of green that clearly indicated the nausea was not gone very far yet. It took a little more than one minute for his breathing to become normal and healthy once again. This fit had apparently drained him of a significant part of his morning stamina, or better of the stamina he should have had after the complete night of rest he so obviously had not taken. Exhaustion was now taking over.

Severus, his eyes closed tightly to fight the dizziness that had invaded him once again for one second, was still sprawled on the cold floor. For now, he could only do one thing: let his body calm itself after the painful rush of the last ten minutes... and couldn't help but accept the little comfort he could grasp in this particular stall, at 6:20 AM. His primary instinct would have been to reject this pathetic display of unwelcome attention. But it seemed that for once, his body wouldn't listen to his mind. He was definitely too weak to refuse this free assistance he was finding so readily given to him. Fighting it would only weaken him further and collapsing here would really not increase his wounded dignity. Severus without any other questioning let himself bathe in the reassuring warmth that was spreading in him from behind, the soft stroking of his hair, the discreet rubbing motion in the tense muscles of his shoulders and back... Only for one moment, of course. Just for one moment...

It only lasted thirty seconds. Thirty seconds during which the scene seemed fixed in immobility and silence. Thirty seconds during which Harry couldn't help but being quite confused. This morning had really been... unusual and even surreal for the sixth year Gryffindor. His system was still full of the adrenaline from the moment the wave of danger and panic had reached him through the bond. It wasn't really easy to grasp the meaning of all that had just happened. Snape had been ill and had sent him very angry and snappy remarks through their bond... and now he was leaning on his chest, in his arms... as if... he needed him, maybe. What the hell? Harry was really lost there... and embarrassed too. He continued providing his comforting gesture... the same that Snape had been eager to despise a moment ago and now accepted so totally... well, he didn't know what else to do.

And at the end of those thirty seconds, Severus finally broke the moment. Pushing himself away from the now annoying presence of the young wizard, he stood up awkwardly and decidedly walked out of the stall, to the sinks and mirrors. With each step, his back was straightening, his moves were more controlled... by the time he had crossed the room, he had recovered his dignity. Not too soon, really. All this scene had been embarrassing, to say the least.

Stealing a look at the mirror in front of him, Severus could barely suppress a shudder at his reflection... his skin was even paler that usually, greenish even... and the dark circles under his eyes... a dreadful spectacle, really. Severus had never been vain, especially about his physical appearance... but this time, that was really worse than usual. He didn't only look ugly... but ill too. A weakness, for all to see. And not to forget this awful taste, still lingering in his mouth, a reminder of his latest humiliation. Bending over the sink, Severus busied himself, splashing his face with cold water and washing away this bitterness. Here, he was a little more human now.

Harry, who had stayed behind, leaning now on the door of the stall Snape had just fled, bewildered at this new change of mood, had not let the other man out of his sight for one moment. Once again the Snape he was used to was back, and buried was the other version of which he had once again just had a glimpse. But questions remained in the youth's mind, just waiting to be asked. The Griffindor, guessing the snappy Slytherin would not be in the mood to give answers to his maybe a little nave worries, opted for waiting for Severus to end his ablutions and face him before speaking.

"So, what just happened here?" he asked, proud his voice sounded as firm he had hoped it would be and that he had managed not to start babbling.

"Well, I thought it was pretty obvious" Severus replied, as sarcastic as ever... For a stupid question, really... "me bending over the toilets, vomiting everything I had in my stomach... Does it ring a bell or is the concept of nausea totally foreign to you ?"

And here it was, once again. You really couldn't speak with Snape without being slapped in the face by his cutting repartee. Harry had the urge of rolling his eyes to the sky in exasperation but for once opted for diplomacy instead. "No. That's not... I mean, why were you ill? Are you sick? Are you in any danger? What is it? Were you poisoned or what? I mean, when I heard your mental cry, I thought... I don't know, that you had been attacked or whatever. That you were hurt or something. And I find you puking your guts in the bathroom... So, I was just wondering... what could have caused this..." He finished in an exasperated and tired voice, fixing almost pleading eyes on Snape, as if begging him to spare him his witty remarks for once and answer his questions as if he considered him an equal.

Severus couldn't help but stare back, shaking his head slightly in stunned disbelief. The boy couldn't be that nave, could he? A joke maybe? "What could have caused this, Potter?" he repeated the question slowly, as if speaking to a two years old. Before adding, in a cold humorous tone: "Well, I could say that YOU caused this. That would be quite accurate, I think." He could play a little,

couldn't he?

"Me ?" Harry asked dumbly, not understanding the allusion, but starting to feel a bit irritated by the other's attitude. "What do you mean, me? What did I do?"

"Yes, you ! You're the one who got me pregnant, aren't you, my dear husband ?" His voice was now dripping with heavy sarcasm, but Harry still didn't get it. Severus nearly laughed out loud at the face Harry was making now. It was now his turn to roll his eyes in disbelief. How could someone be so nave... He sighed before explaining the situation, patronising. "Haven't you ever heard of morning sickness? Dizziness and nausea upon waking up, for weeks or months? Very common for pregnant people I can assure you... Very unpleasant, but not dangerous. " He finally added, as a masked reassurance to the now embarrassed teenager.

"You mean that'll go on this way every morning for months?" Harry couldn't help but ask, stunned and a little worried he would have to repeat this same scene times after times for the next eight months...

"Yes, that about sums it up... but I can't see how it could concern you. You're not the one violently ill, are you ?" he replied ironically before making his way to the door. He turned one last time toward Harry to add, as an after thought. "Don't worry. I can handle it alone... But thank you for the help anyway..." he murmured the last bit and hurried to the privacy of his quarters.

Harry followed the same way one minute later, heading for the Gryffindor tower, still amazed, confused and a little angry at the recollection of the dialogue he just had with... Snape.

None of them had noticed in their quick escape, the presence of a witness, standing discreetly near the door of the bathroom, hidden in a corner of the dark corridor. Professor Remus Lupin stood there bewildered and shocked at what he had just heard and seen. The pieces of the puzzle were slowly but surely putting themselves together in his head now. And the result he was obtaining was... mind-blowing, to say the least. Unexpected too... and terrifying in the mere amount of consequences what he had just understood it could bring to... well, the whole wizarding world. For Remus too, this last hour, and the previous night, had been... quite amazingly full of very disturbing information.

Not one hour ago, Lupin had been quite brutally awaken, this morning. First the sensation of being kicked rudely and literally out of bed and then the fall on the cold wooden floor had welcomed him in this new day. Along with it went the pounding of steps of someone quickly getting out of his bedroom and then of his quarters, leaving the door wide open behind them. Quite unusual, really. Confusion had reigned for one minute in Remus, still sprawled on his sore backside, before the events of the previous night came back to his mind, explaining a little more of his present situation. He had been there with Severus... he had dragged him to bed and made sure that the tired potion master would stay here and get some much needed rest... Much needed because Severus was pregn... no, scratch that. That was not possible... that was part of some weird dream he had imagined in his overexcited mind... Anyway, the fact was he had spent the night laying across Severus legs in his wolf form. And now he was on the floor, no doubt kicked by an angry and a little psychotic potions master irritated by their respective sleeping positions.

Sighing resignedly, and groaning at the moves he was forcing upon his sore muscles, Remus slowly stood up and came to close the door of his rooms. He should not be surprised, really. Twenty years of witnessing and living through Severus short temper and high sense of pride and privacy should have taught him better. And yet, once again, Severus had proven him wrong on the previous night, when he had offered him so generously this treasure, this new potion that would change his life. `Severus'... Remus thought, with a mixture of confusion, disappointment and puzzlement `so full of contradictions, so impossible...'.

By the time he had reached the entrance of his quarters, however, his musings were suddenly interrupted by a storm running in front of him down the corridor and into the bathroom next door, a storm that amazingly looked like Harry Potter. Where the hell was this boy running to at this early hour ? Things this morning were getting weirder and weirder. Raising an eyebrow, in another fit of puzzlement and concern, Remus decided to make sure that everything was alright with Harry and made his way to follow the teenager. To freeze in the doorway at the strange and disconcerting spectacle that greeted him there, bringing a lot of questions indeed.

The scene that unfolded in front of him, in the stall, was really unbelievable and incomprehensible: Snape throwing up and Harry gently keeping the teacher's hair away from the vomit and rubbing his back... What the hell? So that was where Severus had run to so hurriedly only three minutes ago? But what the hell was Harry doing here, with Severus, his most hated teacher ? And what exactly was happening here ? Severus ill? Harry helping him through it? Why ? And how would Harry have known to be here? Dumb luck, maybe, but then, why would Harry have run so urgently to arrive here in time to help Severus?

Questions still swirling in his head, Remus couldn't move from his spot, hidden in the doorway, his eyes staring at the couple in front of him. He was definitely too stunned to do anything constructive here and now... and besides, it didn't seem that he was needed by either of the two wizards there. The stall was too small for three, anyway. There was no need to crowd them... And then Snape had ended his horrible retching and another step in weirdness happened... Severus and Harry cuddling in a quite intimate and comforting embrace... What the HELL was happening here ?

Remus had very little time to ponder this spectacle and its possible meanings. Less than a minute in fact before Severus stood up and came his way. It was pure luck the potions master had not seen him before Remus managed to slip out of the room, and... well, hid himself just behind the door, in the corridor, where he could still see and hear whatever would happen. Not that he enjoyed playing the spy or the voyeur, but well... he was still curious and too intrigued to depart. And after all, moving right now would reveal his presence... there was no need to disturb them, to embarrass them even, was there?

And hear he did... Some unclear and confusing affirmations: `mind cry', `poisoned', `in danger'... what the hell could it mean? `Mind cry'? As in telepathy? Between Snape and Harry? What ? But Remus had no time to ponder that first statement. Suddenly came some very shocking and surreal news that stunned him literally. What had been the exact phrasing of this coldly cutting reply from Severus to Harry ? Ah, yes: `You're the one who got me pregnant, aren't you, my dear husband ?' Pregnant... husband... Wow! Definitely too weird... too mad... too impossible.

Remus didn't even notice the two other wizards' departure. He stood there, behind the door, stunned and frozen to the spot for the next five minutes, before making his way mechanically back to his quarters, trying to grasp senses of reality that seemed to have escaped from the dimension he was wandering in at this early hour. The first two minutes, he merely ascertained that he wasn't still in his bed sleeping and dreaming. Pinching his forearm had been a little painful, but it had done the trick. Remus had to admit he was really awake. Putting his hand over his forehead, he realised he wasn't feverish either, which meant it was doubtful he was delirious. Nothing wrong with him... He had actually heard and seen what he thought he had... however mad it could be.

And even worse, his memories of the previous night, and especially of this strong hormonal smell he had detected around the potions masters were telling him that this declaration he had just witnessed had to be true. Remus had known it when he had been a wolf. It had been easily accepted then, thanks to his animal instincts and senses. But in human form, that was another matter altogether... Merlin ! but now, two proofs of the same fact in less than one day... it had to be true ! Obviously a secret... but not a romantic one, was it?

Come on, Harry and Severus, together, lovebirds... no way, never... Severus' tone had been way too sarcastic and mean for that being the tone one would use with their lover. The picture he had in his head of each of them didn't match this spectacle and its implications. Not at all !

And look at them: they had nothing in common. They literally hated each other, or at least, acted as if! Pure Slytherin versus pure Gryffindor. What could they find in each other ? Severus was cold, mean, manipulative, devious, bad tempered, a pure misanthrope. Okay, maybe there was a human being behind that wall of ice, but Harry was not mature, wise and patient enough to see through that. He would never have stopped hating the man long enough to wonder what was hidden behind the facade. He was too passionate and uncompromising for that. In two words, too young. Harry had not yet discovered the grey between black and white, good and bad, and for him, it was clear that Snape was evil... That was simple. No complication. And if you add to that the weight of the past... James and Sirius hated Snape and Harry worshipped both the memory of his father and his godfather... They could hardly be wrong, in Harry's point of view. How the hell could Harry have gone into a relationship with Severus with this kind of reasoning in his head? That was not logical, that was mad, that was impossible... Hell, Severus had always made a point to reject any attempt at invading his privacy from anyone. Never letting anyone touch him, emotionally as well as physically. Always shying away from any offer of friendship or of companionship...

And Remus knew that from experience. The man had always fiercely protected the shields he had erected around his privacy and his solitude... and he would have let Harry Potter of all in ? The boy he despised, the boy whom he saw as... what was it he had called him recently? Oh, yes: `a brainless, careless, egotistical and nave fool', the boy he had publicly humiliated so many times ? Severus in a relationship? Wanting a family? No way in hell it could ever happen !

The more Remus thought about that, the more disbelief crept in his mind. But the idea wouldn't leave him alone. He had now gone through his shower, dressing and mechanically getting his notes for his morning class without being able to focus his attention on anything else than the disturbing revelations and what they were implying. His hands were running over papers and quills but his mind was only replaying time after time the scene of the bathroom. One mantra haunted his brain: it was totally crazy, so mad, absolutely impossible.

And yet, there was the pregnancy, which implied an intimate relationship... at some point in the past month or so at least. And nobody had noticed anything ? Of course not. If that had been the case, the rumour mill of Hogwarts would have informed the whole population of the castle of this fact. If there was two persons in Hogwarts who were the centre of the interest of nearly every rumour, they were Harry Potter the heroic Boy-Who-Lived and the evil-Death-Eater-Vampire-Monster and incidentally most hated teacher, the Potions Master Severus Snape. But nothing.

So what? A clandestine relationship... yes... no wait. Couldn't be that: Severus had said `husband', as in married and that meant it was official and recognised by the wizarding society. And if it was true, this whole situation had a much bigger importance and meaning. It was not a mere fling, no matter how improbable it seemed. No accident either. But something much more permanent and stronger than that. And at least one other person, someone with enough authority to celebrate a wedding, had to know and approve of this big madness. Official and yet secret... strange...

Severus Snape and Harry Potter together. Married. Expecting a child. Those were the facts. Remus was totally unable to understand what had led to this situation, but he could not throw away the facts now. Could it be a joke? That would be strangely reassuring if it was. But the hormonal overload had been there... and neither Severus nor Harry had known that he was eavesdropping on them. They had seemed sincere enough. And you could not fake nausea just to play a prank... with your hated enemy at that... No, it had to be true...If only he could understand it... He would have to investigate discreetly the matter. His mind would not leave him alone if he didn't... maybe talk with Severus...

Sighing resignedly, Remus sat heavily at his desk and started to sort out his papers yet again, to try and change his mind for a few minutes. What a mess, all these rolls of parchment that had still to be graded ! His eyes lingered on a stack of dissertations... Sixth year Gryffindor... and stopped over a drawing he had almost forgotten. The drawing he had confiscated from Hermione Granger nearly one month ago. The wedding ring of the Protector prophecy. The... Wedding Ring... The WEDDING RING... of the... Protector... Prophecy... Dear God !

Remus Lupin blanched suddenly, gasping at the new realisation. He had finally understood. It was clear now... oh so clear ! And it was even scarier than he had imagined. So important. So much responsibility upon their shoulders... That was terrifying. And they were alone in it... Dear God ! They would need all the help they could find...

Chapter 16

After that quite disturbing scene he had witnessed in the bathroom this very morning, and the conclusion he had reached about its meaning, Remus Lupin's first classes had been far from easy to teach, the DADA teacher's mind being far from being focussed on the task at hand. It seemed it had remained in a certain stall, beside his own rooms, where a certain discussion had taken place. Remus would have gladly remained in his apartment to clear his thoughts and make a plan, if he had not some professional duties he could not forget. And here he was, in the middle of a curse fight that had begun God only knew how in the middle of his fourth hour. One minute he had been sitting at his desk, forgetting he had to watch over twenty students he had given a test to complete, and thinking he would have to corner Severus somehow to try and ask him a few questions. The next second, a book was flying his way and one half of his class was involved in a pretty messy fight with the other half.

The third year Gryffindors had taken at heart to hex their Slytherins classmates to copy the exploits of their elders, namely Potter, Weasley and co against Malfoy, Goyle, Crabbe and co, not to mention the Marauders against Snape, that were now legendary in Hogwart's history. And if they were not very attentive and eager to further their education in the art of defending oneself against vampires and ghouls they had shown a very good knowledge of the ways and means to be a perfect troublemaker... It's most certainly what the results of this test would prove without a doubt... Well, not that he could discourage them very effectively. Him having been a Marauder gave him very little moral margin in this matter. But couldn't they let him think in peace? Was it too much to ask ? Well, maybe, in fact... him being the teacher and here being his classroom, he maybe should have been a little bit more attentive and... professional. Sighing a little loudly, the DADA teacher reassumed his assigned functions, stood up and started to inforce a little peace among his charges.

Five detentions, some purple, green and silver or blue dyed hair, six 'stupefy' spells later, the bell indicating the end of the class and of the morning work resounded between the old walls of the castle. Time for lunch, finally. And he would probably be late too, thanks to those little brats. Not that Remus was particularly hungry... but as the time went on, he had been more and more eager to observe once again two particular wizards who had already caused him a shock on this very morning. Not that he expected some kind of blinding revelation... no, it would be too easy. If both Harry and Severus had managed to hide the truth, their relationship and Severus' very rare condition, it would certainly not be one glimpse of them at lunch that would enlighten Remus in anyway. But maybe, just maybe, now that he knew the truth, he would be able to notice meaningful details, significant gestures or glances... anything.

Well, that was what Remus had been hoping for, when he entered the Great Hall and sat at the head table for lunch. But if Snape was already settled at his usual spot, at the extremity of the table, in front of the Slytherins, and incidentally, just beside him, on his left, Harry was already leaving the room in a hurry, without his two friends. So much for a little moment of observation. Sighing softly, Remus decided to focus his attention on the remaining member of the mysterious pair... the most intriguing one, in fact. Pregnant. Remus couldn't yet register and process totally this bit of information in his mind. Look at him. Just look at him. Severus was his usual self, nothing to reveal his condition. The same tall, lean, black clad form, the same sneering face, the same acerbic remarks. To sum it up, the same man as always. Remus could have easily dreamt all that, if he had to trust his five human senses in this matter. All seemed perfectly normal... which was damn annoying.

This moment of distraction and petty disappointment was however short lived. Soon enough, the normal life of the Great Hall at lunch time gave him a lot of reason to give a bit more attention to his surroundings. A few voices raising here and there, especially in the Slytherins' and Gryffindors' tables, and a few heavy glances cast from one house to the other, were sure signs that the morning fight was neither ended nor forgotten. Nothing major, no open fight, but the atmosphere was impregnated with this tension that had been plaguing the interhouse relationships and comradeship for years, if not centuries. And they were at it once again...

Turning himself decidedly toward the Slytherin Head of House, Remus prepared himself for the torrent of sarcasm he would no doubt receive after he would have given Severus some information and a few remarks about what had happened in his class this very morning... what the Slytherins once again had done.

"Severus ?" He asked politely, drawing finally the Potions Master's bored attention on himself. "I thought you should be kept informed of the last stunt your students have pulled in my class this morning."

That one sentence had the expected effect on Snape. At once, his expression, already cold and contemptuous toward most human, became close and definitely hostile. A flash of anger and annoyance shone briefly in his eyes. "What are you talking about, Lupin ?" came his icy inquiry.

"Your third year Slytherins were involved in a fight against their Gryffindor classmates. Curses were flying all over the room and they were literally at each other throats. It took me more than ten minutes to set them apart." The DADA teacher started to explain with an air of calmness.

"And yet another proof of your blatant lack of discipline and authority !" Severus interrupted him right away, judging that, once again, when his students were concerned, the best defence was the attack.

"There is nothing wrong with my ability to teach." Remus hurried to answer, not quite offended by the remark. "But if I were you, I would be a lot more interested in the aggressive behaviour of your charges, namely Charles Blackwood, Marinus Rones, Octavius Duns and Caesar Leonard really didn't shine by their ability to respect discipline this morning ! Maybe the week of detention I gave them will help a little the matter, don't you think ?" He added, a touch of frustration and annoyance entering his voice.

"Should I believe that my slytherins were the only one involved, that no Gryffindor was there to send curses as well, that the little angels were the poor victims of my evil students, that they were innocent and the fault is only my Slytherins' ?" The Slytherin head of house was quite exasperated by now. "Let me doubt it for one moment, if you please! I know how it goes with you self confident and holier-than-thou Gryffindors. Never your fault ! always good excuses to attack Slytherins and blame them afterward. And not only the students... no, it would be too easy. Teachers too, I see ! Albus, Minerva and now you too! Can you honestly tell me that your precious George Grant, Marc Rialtus and Bryan Holymont were not cursing my students as fiercely, if not more, as my Slytherins ? and what punishment did you find for them ? one little hour of nice walk around the ground with Hagrid maybe ? I'm sure they'll have so much fun !" And his little speech given so masterfully, Severus added to the picture of the offended Slytherin the dramatic gesture of closing his eyes, sighing deeply and grabbing dejectedly the hot cup of coffee that had just appeared in front of him.

Really, the man was such a good actor, a real drama queen ! Remus couldn't help but be amazed by this talent he had seen so many times in his colleague. "Really, Severus. Do you always have to turn everything into an..." his recrimination died as quickly as it had started, forgotten as soon as started when Remus heard the sudden crash of a cup and noticed a drastic change in Snape's demeanour and colour. His newly born anger had also vanished to give way to a more benign feeling: concern.

Severus complexion had turn from pale to greenish and his suddenly laboured breathing was a sure sign too that the Potions Master was not feeling well at all. He was keeping himself unnaturally still, not making a move, his eyes closed tightly. One second was enough for Lupin to put the pieces of the puzzle together. The coffee, the rich flavour of the beverage, had induced the return of the same kind of nausea he had witnessed in Severus only a few hours earlier this morning. The poor man next to him was now fighting to keep it in control, to make sure that he would not have to rush out of the room under the curious stare of every student and teacher of Hogwarts. Remus couldn't help but being caught by a sudden fit of compassion toward the man he suspected was in such a difficult condition...

"Severus ? Are you all right ?" he asked his neighbour as discreetly as he could. No answer came his way however. It was almost as if his concern had not been acknowledge... only Severus weary eyes were now fixed on him, cold and challenging, as if asking what it was to him if he was all right or not... Apparently, Severus' strong temper was still alive, but the crisis was still present for the knowing eye of Remus, hidden behind a wall of cold determination.

On an instinctive impulse, driven in him by a strong protective feeling Lupin decided, in the face of the situation and of the discomfort his colleague- ... could he say friend ?-, to do something to help Severus, to start and repay the new debt he had toward the man who had offered him on the previous night the new Wolfsbane potion that would change his life. Grabbing the tip of his wand he was keeping in his palm, invisible by anyone but himself and Severus, he waved it discreetly in front of him and murmured the words of the spell "finite nauseam"... or at least he would have if Severus had not brutally jerked the magical stick away from him.

"What do you think you are doing, werewolf ?" Severus hissed coldly. A flash of panic, disappeared as soon as arrived, had made its way through the cold mask of the Potions Master who for an instant had made a gesture to protect his stomach with his long hands. In the next second, the chair next to Remus was empty and Severus robe was seen billowing largely behind his rapidly retreating figure.

'Interesting, really interesting... and meaningful' Remus couldn't help but think at this reaction when he replayed the whole scene a few minutes later. The way Severus had instinctively thought to protect his midsection from any danger before even thinking to retaliate to the hypothetical attack... He would definitely have to talk to Severus. Soon. Privately. And definitely not about Gryffindor versus Slytherins rivalry.

* * *

><p>In another part of the castle, perfectly unaware of the bickering between the Slytherin and Gryffindor teachers, Harry had decided to make use of the hour he still had before his first class of the afternoon would begin to make a little research in the library. Not work related research, mind you, nor any form of homework either. It was about a much more personal matter, and something much more hard to understand and to live with too. About pregnancy... fatherhood was still too far away from his preoccupations yet and Harry made sure to forget about this detail, but the realities of pregnancy had been suddenly and brutally crashing on him not twelve hours ago, and in his blessed ignorance, the adolescent had been at such a loss during the whole ordeal...<p>

So here he was, reading this magic medical book, the chapter treating of pregnancy, normal and magical ones, and what to expect of them... Crude details were legions, more frightening and horrifying than he could have ever expected. Technical and medical terms that were hiding a very unpleasant reality, as it seemed: nausea, backache, blood pressure problems, risks of this, risks of that, dangers by dozens, aftereffects, interaction between pregnancy and a lot of things... and those very realistic pictures... dear God ! How could anyone be willing to go through all that in their right mind ! A death promised at each page... The 'problems' chapter was definitely a scary thing to read. Not to mention the 'what to expect' and the 'what to do' sections that gave Harry a very confusing description of what should be the life of his husband in the next eight months or so : mood swing, hormonal unbalance, cravings, the baby moving... the labour... Every paragraph was more terrifying than the previous ones.

But, as he read the words, he found himself more and more distracted by more disturbing reflections... Really, Harry felt he had a lot to learn if he wanted to... to what, indeed ? His relationship, or rather, his lack thereof, with his teacher, his elder, his husband was another matter that demanded to be analysed and dealt with as soon as possible too, in fact. Life had become so difficult, so complex since this September day... He wanted to be helpful, if nothing else, to make a difference, to be present at least, even if his relationship with the man who was officially if secretly his husband, the other parent of his future child, was nearly absent at best. And yet, more often, he wanted to run, to flee far away from all that, from this destiny that had been arranged for him, for them in fact... He simply couldn't see himself rubbing Snape's feet or harassing the house-elves at one in the morning to get peaches with mustard to an hungry pregnant powerful wizard. For one thing, the man who was his husband would never let him near enough to do that. And even if their relationships were to get somehow friendlier, their was still the secrecy to keep in mind...

Everything was so complicated ! So many things had changed during the last month, and yet, in everyday life, it was as if everything was the same as ever. This wedding, this bonding should have changed his life, but in reality, it had not had any actual consequences. Harry still lived in the same place, ate, slept, learned, played, talked, walked, laughed and moved in the same castle, his home, in fact, more than anywhere else ever. The same friends were still at his sides, the same classmates, the same teachers... and outside, the same enemies, Voldemort and his army, the same hateful family, the Dursleys, the same world who foolishly thought of him as their saviour... Everything and everyone were the same...

Only at times a flicker of something in his mind that was not himself but the trace of Severus' presence... and memories of a night in the dungeons... Sometimes, at night, just before Harry went to sleep and had those strange dreams where he often met with a certain teacher of his, these particular memories would come back to haunt him, to taunt him. It had clearly been his most intense experience ever. It had shown him the glimpse of a whole new universe of possible pleasures and gratification, the real dream for the teenager he had been and still was. But it had also been the more terrifying action he had ever gone through. And knowing that it had been a matter of duty and not of affection nor even lust, it really was quite embarrassing having those thoughts come back night after night. At times, it was really hard to meet his teacher-husband's eyes with such reflections travelling though his mind.

Everything about the situation he was in was absolutely confusing... Think about it, the best night in his life, the intimacy and the companionship of a soulbond, the promise of a family on one side... and on the other side, an arranged wedding, a reluctant agreement between them, the embarrassment they always seemed to carry around them for each other, the threats of a future full of dangers and pains, the inadequacy of a naive teenager married to a smart, cunning, complex and mysterious thirty something adult... So many promises, so much hope in those terms... so many problems, so much fear. Harry was at a complete loss as to how he would make this relationship work... or even if he really wanted to make it work.

The bell indicating the end of the lunch pause and the beginning of the afternoon classes interrupted the curse of those thoughts... but Harry knew perfectly well that the problem would still be there at the end of the school day. Just as they had remained for the last few days... Maybe, just maybe, he should ask for some advice... for counselling from someone who would know what to do... from the Headmaster, who was in fact the only one who had a little idea of what was happening in the castle during this very special year... It would be a great thing to be able to talk to his two best friends about it too. But of course, Harry had been sworn to secrecy and, to be honest, he sometimes doubted they would understand the entire problem at hand... Hermione maybe, after a time... (and a research party in the library, of course !) but definitely not now.

* * *

><p>Professors Severus Snape and Remus Lupin had every Wednesday third afternoon period free. Not that any of them cared about the other's agenda in the least. They usually made the best efforts possible to stay away from each other. But on this particular Wednesday, the DADA teacher had the greatest urge to use this particularity of his schedule in order to finally obtain a few answers to the questions that had been haunting him since the early hours of the same morning. Not one minute after the bell had rang the end of his second class of the afternoon, Lupin had locked the door of his classroom, had run to his suite to pick up a roll of parchment and was hurrying down to the dungeons where he hoped to find his colleague.<p>

One minute later, having found the Potion labs empty, Remus Lupin made his way to Severus Snape's office, two doors down the corridor. As he approached, two voices were echoing through the wood of the door: one soft but unmistakable, the trademark of the generally feared Potions Master, the other, much younger, and much less assured. A few more words and Remus had recognised the third year Slytherin student who had, in his opinion, started the fight in his class this very morning. Curiosity rose at once in the Gryffindor teacher, suddenly eager to know how the head of Slytherin House would deal with the whole thing. Severus was after all known to be quite noticeably partial to the student of his house, always favouring and pampering them... that should be interesting. And with that in mind, Professor Lupin, maybe returned to the time of the glory of the Marauders, settled himself against the door to have a little eavesdropping.

"Now Mister Blackwood, I suppose you know why you are here, don't you ?" Snape started in a slightly bored tone. "I really don't appreciate having Professor Lupin, or any teacher for that matter, coming to me to gloat over the 'exploits' of my charges and accusing me of not taking good care of them. Do you think that I don't take good care of you, of my House, Mister Blackwood ?" he asked, his voice still on the same low tone than before, never raising in anger or disappointment.

"Of course not, sir" came the strangled reply.

"Our house is already despised by the whole school, and by the whole english wizarding society. Do you really think that you are helping your classmates and comrades by once again giving those sanctimonious morons some more reason to treat us like criminals and evil bastards ? You hear all day that Slytherins are supposed to enjoy hurting, manipulating, mocking, humiliating, attacking people only for power or to feed their evil hunger. Those are little barbs we Slytherins must live with every day of our life. But believe me, you don't have to act this way and proove them right. You are better than that, I know."

This little speech had definitely some merit, Lupin had to admit. Severus Snape had always had a great way with words and the art of manipulating people thanks to them. And it was clear that the man was one of the best, if not the only one able to handle the little devils known as Slytherins, only mixing threats, reproachs, house pride, reassurance of trust and subtil cheering up in order to keep them in line.

"Now, tell me exactly what happened." Enquired sternly the head of the Slytherin house.

"Professor Lupin had given us a test this morning, about vampires and such. We have a common class with the Gryffindors and their little caid Chriss Bull was in the seat just behind me. He insulted me and the House. You know: 'vampires: that must be an easy subject for you, slytherins. Everyone knows that all of you finish as a vampire or a Death Eater... So, what will it be for you ?' And he went on and on with his stupid taunts... After half an hour, I swear, I couldn't help myself and I hexed him with a silencing curse. And of course, the great Gryffindor couldn't take that. He cursed me back and it all went to hell from this point on until Professor Lupin stopped us." the voice of the boy, who had started his answer on a most respectful tone, had grown angrier and louder by the second as his tale went on. The stress and the passionate feelings that had been born during this fight, had still not faded away.

"Yes, it is actually what I had expected it to be all about." Severus stated calmly after a moment of reflection. "Typical, really. And what were the punishments ?"

"Professor Lupin gave us Slytherins detentions and took 60 points away from us. The Gryffindor lost something like 20 points I think. No detention. He didn't even asked who had started the fight nor its reasons" the resentment once again, was clearly present.

"Typical!" Lupin heard Severus muttering with a sigh. "The Gryffindor, always the brave ones, the foolish ones, if you believe me, but never known for thinking too much or for being slightly fair in such situation. Once again, shortsighted, as ever..." Only silence followed this remark, the student clearly wouldn't dare going as far as his teacher on this subject in front of responsible adult who would as quickly punish him for it. "Anyway," Severus went on after a few seconds, "I don't want to see you searching for revenge, do you hear me ? Leave them to me. They have insulted me too, after all."

"Yes sir" came the quick reply, on a much more accepting and calmer tone, with a glint of anticipation at the hope of seeing the Gryffindor who had, in his opinion, wronged him, punished dearly by his Head of House.

"Here, you'll give this to Professor Sprout. I believe you have Herbology next. If she has any problem, you'll address to me and I'll explain why you were late for her class. Dismissed" The third year, thus liberated from his feared but much respected and appreciated Head of House, hurried to the door with a polite "Thank you sir!"

Remus didn't waste one minute to finally knowck on the Potions Master's office, after he had made sure that Charles Blackwood had disappeared in the staircase. The much relieved student had not even seen his DADA teacher who had disceetly retreated into the shadows and Remus was glad that at least his little session of eavesdropping would remain a secret. A loud and slightly irritated voice soon answered "Come in" and Remus obeyed readily.

"Severus ?" he inquired politely upon entering.

"Lupin ! speak of the devil..." Severus muttered as a welcoming ouverture, before inviting his colleague to sit down in the chair in front of his desk. "What do you want now?" he finally asked tiredly.

"I just wanted to give you back this parchment you left in my room this morning." Remus answered directly, without preamble, feeling that small talk would not bring him anywhere with Severus. He continued while Severus reached for the roll and acertained his contains "And I believe that you had a few questions and tests I needed to go through after the transformation was finished. so here I am. We both have this period free and I thought we could use it... why delay ?"

"Why indeed ?" Severus icy tone cut through Remus cheerful speech. After a small pause, however, some kind of scientific hunger had taken over the Potions Master who seemed even eager to proceed with this new step in his research. "Yes, first thing, I have to make an evaluation of what you remember of the time of your transformation: the metamorphosis in itself and the whole experience, what you have done, what you have felt, what you have discovered or thought in your wolf form... You should start with the most general impression. I'll ask you specifically memory related questions later."

Severus, Remus gathered, was already engrossed in business, as always. It was his chance. The scientific mind in front of him would certainly be focussed on the experiment and the data he would be able to gather... and not on protecting secrets he was not aware that Lupin was aware of. If played skilfully, Remus would take Severus by surprise and the confrontation would bare a little more truthfulness than could be expected if the icy mask of indifference had already been in place.

With that in mind, Remus started his tale while Severus had started taking dutifuly in notes whatever he could say. "I think I remember everything. The strangeness of the transformation, how much easier it was than ever before, no pain, no breaking bone, no ripped skin. It was wonderful, and really, I can't thank you enough for that. I remember perfectly all the tests and questions you had for me. For hours you made me use my magical, intellectual and logical abilities to see how much of my human mind I had retained in my wolf form. I could give you a list of each one. But, if you ask me, I believe that in fact, I had my whole consciousness, my whole mind ran free in this animal body which only offered a better set of perception and sensations. I remember gettting bored out of my mind, trying to complete all your experiments. I remmeber trying to find distractions around me. I remember trying to use my new abilities in order to be more aware of my surroundings. I remember the strong sent of hormones. I remember discovering that you were pregnant, Severus."

The bomb had been dropped. Remus was now keeping his eyes and all his senses set on the man in front of him, refusing to let any reaction escape his scrutiny. And sure enough, the casual mention of the carefully kept secret had indeed a strong effect on Severus. All at once, his already pale skin lost all colour, becoming nearly transparent. His usually neutral black eyes widdened in fear and startlement. His hands began to shake so strongly for one moment that the quill they had been holding fell on the parchment, leaving a growing spot of ink on it. A sharp intake of breath could be heard hissing as it ran between slightly parted livid lips. This sight was indeed a very rare spectacle. Remus couldn't even remember ever seeing his old classmate, now colleague, showing such unmasked genuine feelings, so strong a reaction to anything. It was clearly a proof in itself. Lupin had his answer, his confirmation.

It took no more than fifteen seconds for Severus to recover enough spirit and composition to try and react for the best against this snide attack, or what he considered as such. Denial, the only strategy available to him was strong and absolute denial. He hadn't been a spy for most of his life for nothing. He had learnt some evasive tactics during all this time... Narrowing his eyes and fixing them speculatively on Remus, he exclaimed, as if he couldn't even start to believe he had heard the stupid thing his guest had just said: "Pregnant, Lupin ? Do I look pregnant to you ? Are you insane ?" He added to this fake astonishment a very mocking laughter that was meant to proove that he wasn't the least nervous about the matter. "Tell me, did you fall on your head in the last six hours ? because if you haven't, I would hate to think that my experiments have this kind of after effect, you know, hallucinations and madness fits. So, any head injury lately ?" He asked with a quite serious tone he hoped could settle some ammount of doubt on Remus mind...

"Severus, good try, really, but it won't work with me." Remus ignored the question and answered instead, as serious as Severus had been. "I've heard you this morning in the bathroom. With Harry Potter. Remember? I think you said something like: 'You're the one who got me pregnant, aren't you, my dear husband' Ring a bell ? If there had been only one proof, maybe I would have make myself believe that I was wrong. But three, Severus, three ! The pheromones, your morning sickness, the enlightening discussion you had with Harry ! So tell me now that I'm wrong, come on !"

The quote had been perfectly rendered, even mimisking the sarcastic tone Severus had thrown at Harry. It was really incriminating, when he thought of it... it just summarised everything that had happened, after all. That was all ! Severus felt suddenly very dangerously cornered. There was no real way out of it... no legal one at least. Anyway, before he would make any decision about this new turn of the situation, Severus would try to find out a little more about Lupin intentions. A little more intelligence in this case would certainly proove useful, if only to ameliorate his own protection... and that of his baby.

"So you really do believe that it's true ? Well, whatever ! You do whatever you want to do with your fantasm and your dreams. I'm not working in the psychiatric wing of Saint Mungo after all !" Severus started rather sarcastically, in a soft hissing whisper. "But, just out of curiosity, I'm wondering why ever you thought that the fact that I could be pregnant was any of your business. Tell me, what or who gave you the right to come here and throw that kind of thing at me, like that ? My life is absolutely no concern to you. Have you ever heard about the concepts of privacy and decence ? I think not !"

"Severus ..." Remus tried to interrupt, but with little success, as Severus had still not finished his diatribe.

"And something else about which I'm curious... What the hell do you think you'll do with this fantasy information ? Blackmail me with it ? Give it to the first adept of gossip of this castle so that everyone here, and in the whole Brittish wizarding society could make me their last laughing stock ? Is it an attempt at a pitiful revenge against me for telling my slytherins about your lycanthropy ? So, wich one is it ?" Severus' voice was now getting angrier and louder with every second.

This impersonification of a man in rage was indeed quite good. If Severus could hide his true concern behind such fake matters, there was maybe a chance that he could get out of the dangerous corner he had just been put in. Make Lupin feel guilty of even knowing what he had learnt, getting him to feel ashamed at the very thought of disclosing this particular secret out in the open. The self righteous Gryffindor could be easily convinced by ideas of honor and justice... And it it didn't work, there always was the 'obliviate' curse. It wouldn't be easy, as there was so many informations and deductions to erase from Lupin's mind... but Severus was sure that given the time and the oportunity to concentrate, he could manage very well with it.

It was his life at stake here, after all. If ever the students heard about that, it would only thake 10 to 12 hours for Voldemort to know about his situation, thanks to Parkinson, Malfoy, Crabbe or Goyle... and then, the Dark wizard would simply kill him... or make him wish he was dead. Even if the Dark Lord would not make the connection with the Protector Prophecy, he would get in a fit of jealousy about his pet having cheated on him so blatantly, and that would be quite lethal.

"Severus, Please!" Remus finally managed to exclaim through the river of harsh questioning that was directed at him. "I would never do that. I don't even see what I could get from such a childish behaviour as what you are suggesting." His tone had the, taken a shadow of outraged pride. "No, Severus, I'm only talking to you about that because I wnat you to know that you can rely on me. If you evern need me, I'll be there to help you. Let me assure you that I don't wish you ill at all. It took me some time to realise it, I must admit it, but, as far as I'm concerned, I don't think that our petty past rivalry and mutual dislike doesn't make any sense in the present sutuation. We're both fighting on the same side and I know how much keeping you sage in your condition is important and vital for our cause, our victory and our future? So, once again, I'm asking you to let me help you in every way I can."

This hearfelt little speech had a slight reassuring quality, in that Remus at least meant well, but the only thing Severus had noticed in it was the fact that more than certainly the DADA teacher seemed to know more that the only fact that Severus was pregnant. "What do you mean, vital to our cause ? If it was true, and I'm not saying that it is, I don't see how it could be anything but a private matter." Severus asked defiantly, as cold and forbiddding as ever.

"It would certainly be a private matter if you were not pregnant with the next protector, Severus." Lupin declared, more serious maybe than he had ever been. "Or am I wrong ? Isn't our current protector, Albus Dumbledore, 149 years old ? Is it a complete coincidence that the design of the Protector's parents wedding ring has suddenly appeared in this school ? Every one knows that Harry Potter is a direct heir to Gryffindor, and it would only take me a few minutes in a good library to make sure that you are yourself a direct heir to Slytherin and maybe Ravenclaw... or is it Hufflepuff ? Do you think that I could believe for one moment that you could be so much in love with Harry Potter that you could marry him and agree to carry his child ? And all that in secret ? Come on ! He is a student, for God sake. And you have hated each other for years ? There is only one reason to explain all this and you know it. Don't try to fool me. I know you are pregnant and I know that your baby is the next Protector. So stop this charade and let's talk like civilised persons for once, shall we ?"

Severus, hearing all those questions, couldn't help but feel a cold sweat running down his back as a shudder travelled discreetly all through his body. Remus Lupin was maybe a trustworthy ally in the fight against Voldemort, but he definitely knew too much in this instance. Even if it was more likely that he would not willingly betray him, there was no saying that the werewolf would not be taken prisonner, and what he would reveal under torture, imperius or veritaserum. Too much of a risk, really. In less than one second, his decision was firmly taken, with the rapidity and certainty of the powerful duellist and fighter he was. Severus reached for his wand, which he always kept hidden in his sleeve, and started to wave it along with a perfectly pronounced "obliv..."

... Only to be interrupted by the sudden apparition in the fire-place of the Headmaster's head. "Severus ? May I have a little of your time ?" It politely and casually called through the communication system, before Dumbledore turned his sharp attention toward the people in the room. "Severus... what are you doing now ? Are you hexing Remus Lupin ?" it seemed that, as always, that nothing could escape the old wizard's notice. And one occasion lost to solve the problem... things were not going really well. That interruption, by including Albus in the equation, had practically assured that Remus' memory wouldn't be erased... not now at least. Of course, now, Albus would want to know what he had planned to do, why. And upon hearing the truth, and most of all, that Remus had generously offered his help, Dumbledore would once again decide to trust the werewolf and would forbid Severus to do anything about that. In any case, Severus would now have to inform Albus about the whole thing. With a resigned sigh, the Potions Master decided to answer as was expected from him: by dropping his wand on the table and ostentiously showing that any intention to curse Lupin was now forgotten.

"It's nothing, headmaster" Severus assured Albus quite coldly, a note of disappointment in the voice, before rapidly changing the topic of the conversation. "What did you want ?"

"If you say so..." Dumbledore let his voice trail off for a few moments, as if to give more authority to his words. "I'd like you to come to my office right away. I have a few things to discuss with you, if you don't mind."

"Of course, headmaster. I'll be there in two minutes." Severus finally agreed before Albus ended the communication.

Two minutes... it gave him enough time to turn to his guest, Remus Lupin who looked quite shocked by what had happened during the last fem minutes, and hadn't even moved one inch from his position on the armchair. He hadn't even gotten his wand out in order to defend himself. He appeared stunned, a look of bewilderment, fear and respect on his face. The DADA teacher had certainly not expected Severus to take such a sudden and harsh action. In this state of mind, Severus summarized, the man would certainly give the proper signification of what would come next the full weight of its importance.

"Lupin, listen to me very carefully, because I won't say it twice" Severus started dead serious. "You have come in the middle of something that is beyond your understanding and your level of importance in our cause. Now you know a secret that means the future of the wizarding society as we know it. Now, know that if word of it comes out of this room, I'm dead. And with me the next protector. You are the DADA teacher here and I know you know your job, so I gather that you know what it would mean ? There are circumstances and information you don't know about me however, and I can't emphasize enough the importance of secrecy on this matter. For now, it seems that I have to trust you with it. But be sure that at the first move in the wrong direction, it won't be a mere 'oblibviate' I'll use on you. Now get out of here. I'm expected somewhere else !"

On this last declaration, that had obviously made a great impression on a now subdued Remus Lupin, Severus unceremoniously pushed Remus out of the door, locked it behind him and got to the fire-place. The next instant, he had flooed to Dumbledore's office.

* * *

><p>It was only during his third period, at the same time that the two teachers we just left met in the dungeons, that Harry found himself in front of Dumbledore's office door. His classmates had their flying lessons, and as a member of the quidditch team, Harry had always been excused from it. No one would even look for him for at least one hour. The Gargoyl did not even wait for a password to open the door. The headmaster had obviously been aware of Harry's approach and of his desire to talk to him. And of course, it only increased the teenager's nervousness to new levels of unrest. No way to turn away and shy from the embarrassing discussion he wanted to have with the old wizard.<p>

"Ha, Harry my boy ! Do come in !" the cheerful voice greeted him as he climbed the few remaining stairs.

"Hello, Headmaster, sir" Harry, at a loss as to how he would start the discussion, ventured politely.

"Sit down", Albus Dumbledore was now observing him with his kind eyes, always ready to make things comfortable for his victims whenever he felt that there was a painful conversation that needed to be dealt with. "Some tea ? A cookie maybe" he offered generously.

"Thank you, sir" Came the automatic reply before Harry's voice trailed off in indecision once again. That promised to be difficult. How more ridiculous could he be... In the twenty following minutes, the discussion went through more neutral topics, as the weather, Harry's studies, the upcoming opening Quidditch season, and such. Who said that stalling was not an art in itself ?

"So, Harry ? what can I do for you ? Surely you came here with a goal in mind..." Dumbledore questioned him finally when he saw that nothing would come naturally from the teenager.

"Ehh... yes, indeed. I kind of need to talk about... things... and I thought that, maybe... you would give me some advice... or whatever... as I can't really go to anyone else about it... you see..." Harry had not really meant to babble like that, but the awkward and embarrassing situation he had willingly put himself in had really strange effects on his speaking abilities.

"You know you can tell me anything. I'm here to help you as best as I can." The Headmaster assured him patiently.

"Thank you, sir." Harry then drew a deep breath as he decided to finally get to the point. He was a Gryffindor after all, and he trusted Dumbledore... "I don't really know how to start. It's about Professor Snape and me..."

"Severus. You could call him Severus, you know. You are married to him after all, Harry." Dumbledore corrected him matter of factly, a spark of mischievous light dancing in his blue eyes.

"That's the problem, sir. I don't feel like I'm married at all." Harry started slowly, and finally let the words that had been weighting down his mind lately flow in the attentive ears of the Headmaster. "Strictly nothing has changed in my life has changed since... you know. Severus, as you want me to call him, is only being Professor Snape with me. Just like before. Only he is even colder. And at times, I find myself believing that. And I know that all that must stay a secret, but really, I'm feeling like I'm getting crazy here. If only he could acknowledge it just with me... I mean, he is acting like nothing has happened. And then this morning..." Harry stopped brutally at this precise moment, blushing in utter embarrassment. He had managed in a few minutes to make a complete fool of himself, with his stupid babbling, his senseless teenager's worries. His breathing loud and almost difficult, Harry had let himself say things that he was nearly ashamed to even think...

"Harry, what exactly happened this morning ?" Dumbledore once again did not let himself be deterred by Harry's uncertainties. It was quite clear to his old and wise eyes that the last thing the young man in front of him needed was to lock himself on his fears and problems. Maybe only speaking about them would help him...

"He scared the hell out of me. That's what happened !" At Dumbledore's slightly disapproving expression at this outburst, Harry tool a calming sigh before answering again. "Okay. So I was sound asleep. It could be, I don't know, 5 or 6 AM and I was brutally woken up by a cry. In my mind. Sn-Severus getting himself in one of his fit of anger over something Professor Lupin had done... you see what I mean. It happens sometimes, whenever a strong emotion washes over his mental barriers... or maybe when he is tired, I guess" At this point, Harry, almost oblivious of the presence of the highly perceptive and interested old wizard, took a pause as if to examine further the supposition he had just come up with. Five seconds later, he was shaking himself and went on with his memory telling. "Whatever. So, as I was saying, Severus was ranting about this and that when some... pain and panic echoed through the link. So of course, I rushed out of the Gryffindor tower to find him, see what had happened to him and help maybe... and the next thing I was in some third floor bathroom, holding him while he was throwing up. He was so pale. Hell, he was shaking like a leaf and it took him at least five minutes to get steady on his legs. I was ... terrified. I didn't know what was the matter. For all I knew he could have been poisoned or something. And the next second he is here sneering at me, mocking my eternal ignorance and storming away from my obviously disgusting presence. How the hell was I supposed to know it was normal for someone pregnant ? It's not really something you learn at school and Aunt Petunia thanks God only produced one son. So okay, I'm dumb and stupid but for me this pregnancy thing was not real... in my mind... you see. Until this morning and all came crashing on me like that, that I was married and that I didn't know my husband. And that he doesn't want anything to do with me. And that I don't even know if I want to have anything to do with him either. I'm a teenager... a child to him. He would never take me seriously and even though, he despises me and I don't know what I should do... what I want..."

Harry was now in a very distraught state of mind. If it had seemed difficult at first to talk to someone, the harder part now was dealing with his feelings and the storm of emotions and incertitude that had invaded him when he had let the flow over the edge. It didn't matter anymore that there was someone here listening to him. In a very painful way, Harry was once again alone with himself, with his problems, with his dilemmas. And it was written on his face, all this painful confusion, this doubt that was weighing him down, all too clear for Dumbledore to read. The wise and old wizard had preferred until then only listening, giving Harry the chance to finally put words on his emotions, find a very relative comfort in catharsis. But it was time now to try to help, to offer support and understanding, and maybe finding some sort of solution to the problems.

"Harry, my dear boy, listen to me" Dumbledore started calmly, the voice of reason and wisdom after Harry's confused outburst. "I understand that it seems to you that you are living now through one of the worst time of your life. I know you feel totally lost. You think you won't be able to deal with the situation, because you are too young and lacking of experience of life, and because you think that no one, neither I nor Severus, care whether you actually can deal with it. You believe that's the reason Severus rejects you and you feel left out and useless"

"Yes ! Exactly !" At each of these sentences, Harry mechanically nodded, recognising in those words the symptoms of his unease. It seemed that a little observation and nearly 150 years of wisdom could read a teenager as an open book.

"But let me tell you a few things that could help you see the situation from another point of view." Albus continued. "You are still a teenager, that's true. And even you are much more mature than your classmates, you don't have a lot of experience of life. That's normal. But you think that because Severus is an adult, because he has lived through more in his 35 years than most people will ever have to in their whole life, because he acts so controlled and calm and responsible, the situation, the whole arranged wedding, his pregnancy, the danger and most of all, the responsibility it entails, is automatically easier for him to carry than for you. But believe me, the only difference between you and Severus on this matter is that he is much better at hiding his real feelings than you are."

Dumbledore took a pause at this moment to give Harry some time to process this new revelation. The old wizard was finding this conversation slightly hard and painful. Of course, he had hoped, against reason, that Severus and Harry would be of some comfort to each other. He had prayed for a miracle, that Severus would finally open up to someone else than him, that he would find some measure of peace, acceptance and happiness in the process. But obviously, this very conversation was proof enough that this miracle had not happened yet. With Albus' help, it would not be too late... there was still hope...

"What I mean is that Severus is not acting like he is in order to spite you, to show you his dislike or contempt against you. He doesn't cope very well with his condition. He is no longer in a state of rational denial, because he perfectly knows what the facts are. But his emotional state is another matter altogether. He doesn't hate you. He doesn't even despise you. I think that over time, and most of all, since the beginning of this year, with the ordeal you have gone through together, the wedding, the secret, the common destiny, he has developed some kind of implicit respect for you."

"Respect... ? But, sir, he is only showing me glacial indifference and complete rejection ! He doesn't even talk to me, or yell at me, like before..." Harry started to protest, bewildered by the turn the conversation had taken in the last few minutes. Severus Snape, head of the Slytherin house, Potions Master, Death Eater, spy and warrior for the side of the light, had always seemed so strong and controlled, so mature and resilient. The idea that he was that vulnerable, that he couldn't cope with any kind of situation, that he was able, like any human being, of suffering emotionally, of doubting, of being afraid or in pain over anything, had never really crossed his mind. Once again this new idea was too disturbing to assess right now...

"Harry !" Dumbledore interrupted him once again. "Think about it for one moment. Was there absolutely no time when Severus and you were in any kind of a real communication, without the harsh words and the blatant rejection you are talking about ?"

"Well, maybe." Harry started after a few seconds of reflection. "There is this connection between us, this mental link, you know? And at times, I can feel his emotions... And there are those dreams... Sometimes, when we have both our barriers down, at night, we come into each other dreams, I think. It's not as if I can remember it perfectly... It's slightly confused in my mind in the morning. But I know that we talk, we share our thoughts and some memories, we're walking or sitting together, or whatever in the dream universe and there is this... comfort we draw from each other... I don't know how to describe it, but I believe it's our way to keep the nightmares at bay" Harry's voice had taken this distant and dreamy quality that clearly meant that what he had just had been some kind of revelation to himself too. Talking to the Headmaster had that rare advantage that it helped him to discover truth about himself Harry had never considered. "And there was this time this morning when he let me hold him... I guess you are right. Maybe he doesn't hate nor despise me after all..."

"You're starting to get my point, my dear boy! I know that the situation is difficult for you. But it is maybe even harder for Severus. The purely physical effects of the pregnancy, that you have started to witness this morning, are very demanding and I'm pretty sure that Severus would much rather not have to live with them. But he is able to bare them without so much problems. They will tire him, irritate him most certainly, and make his every day life a little more hellish than usual. But what I fear is more difficult for him to bare is the emotional stress." Dumbledore had a hard time detailing this way all the hurts and pains of the one he considered his child. It reminded him too much of his failure at protecting this eleven years old boy who twenty something years ago had come to him to seek a little love and comfort. But if he ever wanted Severus to find these same love and comfort, his best chance would be to help young Harry Potter to finally understand who he had married and what he had to face in order to finally get to him... if he wished so.

Drawing in a deep breath, Albus Dumbledore took a few seconds to choose carefully his words so that they would move his young guest. " His past unfortunately left its trace in Severus. He has a lot of difficulty to trust anyone. He was betrayed far too many times in his life. I'm sure he has convinced himself that it doesn't hurt him anymore, but in truth, I think that the wound is still open somewhere behind the mask. And he was not only betrayed by the same persons who should have protected him, he was manipulated and used in all the cruellest and hardest ways. You can understand that to win over his trust is the first and only goal that you should wish to reach in your near future. He must learn that you won't betray him too. It doesn't matter if you are making errors, he fully expects that... too much, maybe. But he must be sure that you won't intentionally do something to ruin his life even more than it has been in the past."

"Well,' After a time of silence, during which Harrt was trying to process and access all this new personnal, if cryptic, knowledge, the teenager finally got back in track with the conversation. "I won't lie and tell you that I understand everything you said. I guess I still don't knoiw Severus enough to be able to see all that in him. In time, maybe..." his tone, before his voice trailed off in hesitation, had become a little sad and nostalfic. Frustration had clearly invaded Harry's consciousness, and all this doubt, this desperate desire to have things get somehow easier, if not better and happier, were taking a lot of energy from him.

"Of course, you will" Dumbledore kindly tried to reassure him. "I have no doubt about it !"

"If you say so..." Harry concurred, a somehow falsely brave smile on his lips. "But what I mostly need right now, besude this most enlightening piece of understanding, is some more practical piece of advice. You know, a notice to known how I must handle him, things to do and so on... Somehis, I never can tell if what I'm doing whilke around him is making him happy or pissing him off."

"Well, there are no spells or miraculous formula for that kind of thing you know. The depth of mystery in the human soul and behaviour... but I believe I still can give you a few pieces of advice to start with..." Dumbledore tookl a few seconds to think about what could better help Harry in his task of making Severus a happy man. "First of all, and as a general basis, I would recommand you to never pity him. Severus is a proud man and he would never accept that drom anyone. Then again, that doenst mean you should not show him any kindness at all. In the contrary. But nothing too overwhelming either. Severus has this emotional fragility burried under all this self control of his... and he wouldn't react well to stronf personnal feelings directed at him all at once too soon. Now, I don't know if you have this kind of feelings or wull have them for him, but in this case, move slowly and with subtlety. Never force anything, try to respect his wishes but don't give up. Try and be present for him..."

"But, that's just it, I don't know that I can do that at all!" Harry interrupted him suddenly.

He had attentively listened to every little bit of information he could find in the old wizard's words, but if some of them, he could certainly use, the whole process was getting frustrating. During this little speech, he had built in his head the cision of someone trying to tame a wild cat and male a pet or a griend out of it. And for a few seconds, he had asked himself if it was really what he wanted to do. Only two months ago, if asked, he would have said he hated his Potions master. but now, he was curious about the man wha was his husband, and, even if it was still quite difficult to fathom, the father of his child. He was feeling guilty, responsible, admirative, unsecure and protectice about Severus. And a touch of desire sometime at night, to tell the truth... But it couldn't be love, could it ? And why try and start the basis of a relationship he wasn't sure he could be happy with for the remainder of his life ? Helping him now, okay. He owed Severus much more that that. But the future... that was the question. Because, when you have tamed the wild cat, isn't it cruel to reject it because you don't want it anymore ? And with an after thought, another idea formed sorely in Harry's mind. would the wildcat even let himself be tamed ? "And he definitely don't want me to be present. He won't accept me for more than one or two minutes when we are alone in a room and then he will shove me out" A note of sadness jad almost entered the teenager's voice.

"Let's be practical for one moment, if you please, Harry. Severus at this time and place, simply put, does need help. With his pregnancy, the morning sickness, the stress of the war, and the obligation of secrecy, willing or not to accept ot, he really needs help. Now, it can come from me or ti can come from you. But either way, he will get it, if only so that his nercousness and exhaustion don't kill the baby. And I would prefer, as it is more logical and normal in the present situation, that this extra help comes for you. If I order it, he will accept it. And in these conditions you'll be able to get closer to him." Dumbledore assured him firmly. "Let's call him up here in order to discuss it with him. I know he has this period free in his schedule."

This proposition, however constructive it seemed, had not really put Harry at ease. There was a very big difference in his head between coming to Dumbledore, an old and wise wizard he trusted with his life and his emotions, as a sort of autority and grand- father figure, to ask him for advice and confide in him with his personnal problems, and having those same problems discussed directly with the key and the center character of those same problems. Talking to Severus, hell, talking to Snape, because when they were together, there was no Severus and Harry, but only a Professor Snape and a Mister Potter, would only embitter their already absent relationship... and embarrass Harry. No way Severus Snape would be happy being summoned in the headmaster's office in order to discuss his private life and to force coerce him into accepting an help he could only despise.

Unfortunately... or maybe luckily, who knows ? Harry didn't even get a chance to protest Dumbledore's last decision. The short instant he needed to recover from the surprise and the enormity of what would happen next, was enough for the old wizard to throw a handfull of floo powder in the fireplace and call with an almost sing-song voice "Severus ? May I have a little of your time ?" The Headmaster's frame was hiding the hearth of the fire place, where, most certainly, Severus Snape's head had appeared.

Harry was not very interested in listening the following conversation, however short it could be. But for the first time since at least one hour, Harry was suddenly reminded of the link that bound his mind to his husband's. Severus thoughts and emotions were furiously lacking of calm, serenity and self-control. Now that Harry could focuss his attention on what was sent to him, a rush of near panic, confusion, and of that kind of fierce determination you can usually find only in wounded animals cornered by predators and deciding to attack desparately before getting killed. Harry could almost feel the adrenaline pass from Severus' bloodstream into his own at this sudden overwhelming flow of emotions. Something wasn't quite wrong down in the dungeons...

The next moment, the source of all this stress came out of Dumbledore's fireplace. "Albus, what did you want ? I have a 'situation' down in my dungeons, as you have heard..." Severus asked without even waiting to be settled in a chair, and sidestepped around Dumbledore to finally notice that he was not the only guest in the room. "oh! Potter..."

"You could call him Harry in private, you know, Severus" Dumbledore remarked lightly, as a distant echo of a very similar advice he had provided to Harry only forty or fifty minutes ago.

It only earned him a cold "Whatever..." delivered by an annoyed Severus who was almost rolling his eyes to show all the interest he was finding in this particular piece of advice. "Anyway, it's better that 'Harry'is here, in fact. I have some news that concern him too." he added after dismissing in one moment the little inconvenience.

"What happened, Severus ? Any problem ?" Albus asked with a sudden touch of worry tainting his voice.

"You could say that. Lupin knows. He has found out about the pregnancy when he was in wolf form last night." Severus started a cold summary of the events that had made his day slightly more stressful than expected. But soon enough, his calm was vanishing, replaced by an anger that could only be a hidden panic. "He 'smelled' the hormonal overload, Albus! He smelled it ! How could you oversee that in your protecting and shielding spell ? Haven't I told you about Nagini ? You know, this little snake pet of Voldemort's... Don't you think that if a wolf can smell it, a snake can too... I'm sure that the Dark Lord will be overjoyed next time he sees me to learn that I'm pregnant, hein ?"

"There is no need to stress yourself over it, Severus." Dumbledore tried to calm the younger wizard, having for now seemingly forgotten Harry's presence in the room.

On the other hand, the youngest of the wizards present in the room was still shocked by this news: someone had found out. The secret was broken and their safety with it... Harry was really not ready for all this new development to the situation. Publicity was something he could not even begin to accept in this particular case. HArry was simply not ready for this. Hell, he had not even accepted and understood it yet and now he could be confronted to the knowing eyes of people... and when you were talking about Remus, Sirius was never far away... God, that could be a catastroph... A dreadful feeling of panic was slowly invading Harry's mind as his elders were so seriously devising about the new problem of the day...

"This... accident will help us greatly in fact. I'm going to make up a stronger spell to fill this loophole, don't worry. I'll cast it on you no later than tomorrow... And Remus ?" the headmaster asked as an afterthought.

"What of him?" Severus inquired icily.

"What exactly does he know? And what did he tell you he intends to do about this knowledge ?" Dumbledore added some precision to his question.

"He came to me this afternoon to tell me he knew about the pregnancy. And I think he heard Potter and me talking this morning after I was... ill. I was full enough to call him my husband in a public part of the school. Can you believe that, Albus ? How the hell did I manage to stay alive as a spy for so long with such fits of stupidity ?" Severus was now more mortified and self despising than angry at Dumbledore. Sadly, Dumbledore thought to himself, it had always been this way with the Potions Master. He was so ready to forgive his 'father' but so eager to punish himself for the smallest mistake he could have made. "Anyway, with all those pieces of information, he put two and two together and guessed that I was carrying the next Protector. I was about to obliviate him when you interrupted me not five minutes ago. It would have solved the problem but now the opportunity for that to succeed is gone. He assured me that he only wished to help, but really, it's too much of a risk. I don't think he would betray us. But, imagine if he is captured or kidnapped and tortured for information. Veritaserum would only take one minute to make him give the information away..."

"Oh, Severus. I think you're a little too much pessimistic here. Remus is not a danger to us. He is not considered as a key fighter by our ennemies, you know that. And as long as he stays in Hogwarts to teach, I don't see Death Eaters coming here for him." Dumbledore countered seriously. His arguments were most certainly true, even if Severus' over suspicious mind had a tendency to come up with a dozen of objections to this last statement. Dumbledore had no real desire to see that the secret was discovered, even by allies, but if there had to be one, they could have had much worse than Remus Lupin. He was trustworthy, brave, smart, discreet and would be there to help Severus when it would become necessary. But making see that to Severus would be quite hard indeed. "No, I really think that we aren't really endangered by this little... accident. Think about it. There could be a time when we'll need an ally who'll know exactly what is at stake and will help and protect you and your family. It will be much more usefull to let things as they are now than obliviate him."

Severus of course had not the same kind of trust for his colleague and had only learnt in his life that the less people knew about him, the less they could betray and hurt him. Albus' decision was certainly motivated by good reasons and to say the truth, Remus was no traitor material. But to take such a risk... "Whatever..." was his only answer, given on a level tone, as if it didn't really matter at all. Severus had clearly seen that the Headmaster was firmly convinced he was right and wouldn't be convinced of the contrary. Discussing the matter all the afternoon and the night would not change anything to the situation, and the occasion of solving the problem easily was definitely lost now. "So," he went on after a minute or so of silence, changing the topic. "what was it you wanted to talk about ?" A joyous and affectionate smile settled once again on Albus' face. Maybe not a good sign, Severus found himself thinking at this sight.

"Harry here came to me because he is quite concerned about you and your well being." Dumbledore started his speech, acting as if he had not seen Harry suddenly open wide eyes full of panic and embarrassment nor Severus turn exasperated and slightly reproachfull regard on his young spouse. Both of them seemed unable to articulate one word in any case and Albus took the opportunity to press his point without too much resistance from either of them. "And to say the truth, I think he is right. This morning crisis is only the first of many inconveniences and stress your pregnancy will put you through. I don't want you, Severus, to go through every thing alone. It is not safe for you and the baby and it wouldn't be fair. I want you to let Harry help you. It's his place to be at your side in your moments of pain and joy, after all... remember the wedding vows ? Harry was here to help you this morning but you were really lucky that it was Lupin and not a Crabble or a Goyle who had heard you. It isn't safe nor wise for Harry to be seen in the corridors heading to your dungeons at all time of the day. I came up with a solution, don't worry. Here, let me see your wedding rings, my boys!"

Stunned into dumb obedience, both Harry and Severus reached out their left hand and presented their wedding ring to Dumbledore. At times, people could wonder if there was not some kind of hypnotic power to the old Headmaster's voice, so he could have people accepting without argumenting whatever he was set to see happening to them. Tapping lightly his wand on both the gold rings and muttered the words of a spell neither Severus nor Harry could grasp the meaning of. "Here, all done !" Dumbledore exclaimed, proud of himself, and a sparkle of mischief shining in his eyes. "You are now connected to each other by a portkey centered on the band of your ring. Just wish it and you can ding yourself immediately in each other's presence. Most practical, isn't it? " As he finished this sentence, the bell indicating the end of the third afternoon period and the start of the fourth rang through the walls of the castle. "Don't you have classes to attend or to teach ?" he then asked, practically dismissing them and ignoring the chorus of "But !" that erupted from his two guests. "come on, come on, you don't want to be late" he finally said, walking them to the door and sending two stunned, slightly iritated and thoroughly fooled wizards on their way.

chapter 17

Harry Potter had never had any trouble falling asleep... until a certain wizard known for his nasty habits of hating, torturing and killing people, and his dreadful surname of 'Voldemort' had decided to come back to life and haunt his nights and dreams. Oh, not every night, of course. It would have no doubt killed Harry from sleep deprivation and major stress... but often enough, visions of the activities of the Dark Lord came and went, leaving him sitting upright in his bed, breathless, shaking and covered in cold sweat. For a few minutes, Voldemort would appear, doing all sort of things, from merely sitting near a large fireplace, to darkly entertaining his Death Eaters by the attack and torture of some muggle family. Images and sounds would then invade his mind, at times, mere memories changed into nightmares, or a flash of a present reality... it was often difficult to tell the difference between them...

During his fifth year, such an awful scene occurred at least once a week, if not more. Of course, those visions had some very precious strategic use, when dutifully reported to Dumbledore on time... but most of the time they were only there, as it seemed, to torture him mentally. That was at least how Harry saw it... It had taken some time, but the pure terror he had felt in the beginning had faded away after a few months, leaving only trepidation, disgust and horror. He knew that he was quite safe in Hogwarts, to a certain extent... but being linked to such an evil and devious monster made him feel dirty, as if he was tainted by the wizard's own dark soul, filthy thoughts and beliefs, and cruel actions. He hadn't quite managed to get used to that, thanks God for his mental sanity ! If you think of it, what's best: getting upset by the spectacle of blood shedding, murders and sufferings, or being so used to it that you could watch it all day long without even being disturbed by the show of the human misery. A good part of Harry's innocence had been destroyed in the process, but at least, he could reassure himself that he was nothing like this monster. He still had a heart, a conscience, morality...

However, for the last month and a half, since his wedding in fact, and more precisely since the mind link had been set between himself and Severus, the dreams had disappeared. At first, Harry had too many things to think about to even notice it. But when he had accepted the idea of his new marital situation, and tried to resume his former 'normal' life, he had finally become aware of the fact that now, his dreams were more invaded by his husband and their occasional talk, than by the Dark Lord's last exploits. It was as if the wedding mental bond had crushed down the link that existed between Harry and his mortal enemy. One of the obvious good point of this wedding, in fact. At times, Harry had even thought it was the only one... Until this Thursday night, the 29th of October, to be precise, when the peace of his sleep was once again disturbed by Voldemort's vision... or was it merely a dream ?

The room was dimly lit, the fire sending red, golden and orange shimmers dancing on the walls, the high ceiling and the rich furniture of this sitting room. The moon shone faintly through the large window, giving a mysterious and unreal aspect to the scene. Everything was quiet, the only sound, the wood cracking as the fire was attacking and eating it slowly. Everything was still, the only move the hands of the old clock on the wall and the flames embracing tightly their oaken leak before flying up sated in the flue . In an armchair, in front of the fireplace, motionless and seemingly asleep, a human form was resting in the nice warmth of the fire. A closer observation would have revealed it was a wizard, recognisable by his magnificent dark green velvet robe. His long black hair hiding his features, his head resting on his hand, as if he was deeply taken in thoughts, the man wasn't sleeping after all. The impatient drumming of his nails on the armchair had destroyed the illusion.

He could have been in this position for hours or only for a few seconds, it didn't matter. The cold tension that surrounded him suddenly disrupted the peaceful and calm atmosphere of the room. In one rapid and graceful move, the man was standing and striding powerfully to the window where he fixed his gaze toward the edges of the forest. His face now bathed in the moonlight. His loose hair framing his angular and strong features and accentuating the pallor of his skin, the mysterious man had taken a more strange and disturbing aspect. His black eyes were focussed on a point beyond the horizon, as if waiting to see something that wasn't even in the same plane of existence. In a few seconds, they abandoned their stillness and were clouded with frustration, impatience and... longing. In the assault of such strong emotions, they finally lost their colour and reversed into their original angry blood red.

Voldemort couldn't wait anymore. It had been nearly three months now, and it was getting to his nerves. Watching the Forbidden Forrest in the moonlight wouldn't give him back his little price, now locked in that damned castle on the other side of the magical woods, in Hogwarts. Making a quick decision, the dark lord reached for his wand, centred himself for a second and called out "Lucius Malfoy !". Less than two minutes later, the faithful servant had apparated in the room, and was now kneeling humbly in front of him, his long silky white hair shining in the moonlight.

"You called, my Lord? How may I serve you?" came the almost automatic question.

"Yes, Lucius." The Dark Lord acknowledged, distractedly waving Malfoy to stand up. "You have always been one of my most trusted Death Eaters, haven't you ? You have proven your worth and your devotion to me time after time, haven't you? But, tell me, can I trust your son in the same way?" He asked in a deceptively sweet voice.

"Of course, my Lord. Draco was born to serve you." The blond wizard hurried to assure his Master, quite puzzled by this sudden interest and interrogation. As heir to a long line of Slytherin, however, he had learned at a very young age that it would not do him any good to let his 'master' see that. His voice, as well as his face, didn't give anything away, never for one moment betraying his thoughts and emotions.

"We'll see." Voldemort accepted the answer dismissively. "For now, I need you to send a letter to your son and get him to give a message to someone first thing tomorrow morning. Do you think that he'll be able to do that with all the discretion that I'm expecting to find in my every servant, Lucius?"

"Of course, My Lord." the image of a proud father answered readily, while the old aristocrat in him was snorting a little derisively, 'as if he had raised his son so poorly as to ignore the principles of politics, ambitions and power games, and most of all, the proper way to behave as a true noble pureblood'. "And what is this message, My Lord?"

"It's quite simple indeed. I want my consort to know that his presence is required at my side for the night festivities of Halloween. Make sure that the message is given on time and without any witness. Oh, and no trace. I don't want the old fool to get involved in my personal business now." Voldemort ordered swiftly, his eyes locked on Lucius' in a very intimidating regard. He didn't miss the flash of annoyance -... or was it jealousy?... distaste maybe? But for whom: his consort or the Dark Lord himself?- that invaded in an instant his servant's face to be immediately replaced by the perfectly respecful and humble acting of the faithful servant once again.

"It will be done as you order, my Lord" Malfoy bowed his head and, at the dismissive wave of his Master's hand, disapparated to his own manor.

Left alone, the Dark Lord took once again his position in front of the window, eyes focussed on this point he knew his consort to be. In Hogwarts, at the same moment, Harry Potter woke up groggily from a weird dream... or was it a vision ? Finding no aspect of emergency in the images and words that had haunted his last minutes, he dismissed the matter for later and went back to sleep.

* * *

><p>The mail usually was delivered at Hogwarts during breakfast. Not that it was an absolute rule, it was more of a tradition. In fact, it was only the simplest way, the easiest too, as it prevented the constant invasion of owls inside the castle at every hour of the day and night. However, important messages and urgent letters could be brought in at any time... the students and their parents just had to be quite understanding and use the possibility with discretion and responsibility. But as usual, like every other rule and law, means to break this tradition had been used for generations and generations of Hogwarts' students.<p>

The large black owl that was diving from the clouds down to the dungeons of the old castle one hour before dawn the next morning and knocking repeatedly on one of the 'loophole' of the sixth year Slytherin boys' dormitory, was definitely not here at an appropriate time. It wasn't an usual owl either: numerous spells had been cast on the bird in order to make it the perfect spy-messenger. Sent to someone, it would only be seen and heard by this person, no matter how many people were present during the mail delivery. Add to that a charm attached to the letter itself, making it invisible except to the recipient's eyes, and you had a very useful tool in political and spying operations. It couldn't be afforded by everyone, of course, but only the naive and stupid thought that war and politic were about honesty and bravery and not power and money... one thing that every Slytherin pureblood was already taught in the cradle.

On the other side of the small window, however, one teenager wasn't really happy to have his sleep disturbed by the infernal scratching and tapping noises coming from outside the thick walls. Draco Malfoy, newly appointed as the Slytherin prefect and given for this reason a bedroom for himself, slowly got up from his bed next to the large fireplace that barely managed to keep the students comfortable in the depth of the cold and damp dungeons, and carefully walked across the dark room to investigate the source of the disturbance. Opening the window, the blond, still sleepy teenager didn't take very well to finding himself suddenly sprawled on the floor when a huge bird passed a few millimetres above his shoulder, making him lose his balance in the process.

Receiving the letter on the bridge of his nose didn't help to improve his mood either. But by the time he had a closer eye to the handwriting on the parchment, annoyance had been changed into worry and slight anticipation. One of his father's letters. Something he had come to long for and to fear at the same time : usually a subtle mix of affectionate enquiries, family news and political and strategic advice or instructions. What would it be this time? Certainly not the most innocent kind of fatherly concern, as the letter was sent this early in the morning and this secretly. There was no reason to make this stupid hope last much longer anyway.

With a swift gesture, Draco opened the envelope and nervously pulled out its contents: a small piece of parchment on which only three or four lines had been written and another smaller envelope with no mention whatsoever as to whom it was addressed. Leaving the latter for now, he started to read the note meant for him.

'My dearest son,  
>It is of the utmost importance for both His cause and ours that you accomplish the simple mission that He deemed opportune to entrust you with. Bring the letter enfolded in this envelope to your godfather with the utmost discretion. Wait for his answer and owl me it immediately. No one but he is to know this message ever existed and should there be any risk that it could fall into anyone else's hands, destroy it by any means necessary. I trust you to succeed in this task that should mark the beginning of your career in His service and to make me proud of you. Your father.'<p>

Just as he had expected. All business, nothing personal. No 'how are you', no 'Your mother and I have missed you', no 'I hope you are well', just some basic emotional blackmail, as usual. It seemed sometimes that it had been years that his father had written or said anything genuine to Draco. Since he had entered Hogwarts, the first year, as a matter of fact. It had changed a lot of things in their relationship. Draco was no longer only a child to be proud of, to show off as the heir of the family, the next Lord Malfoy, such a prize for his father. He could be useful, now, he was an asset that could bring success to the family politics and business.

It should not affect him this way. It was a part of a Malfoy's education, after all, as Father would say: "you can't let the future of the dynasty and of the familial power only in the hands of some foolish and stupid gryffindor teachers and headmaster". Draco was too smart and, well, too Slytherin to ignore all the advantages that he could represent for his father in his position here in Hogwarts, close to such adversaries as Potter and Dumbledore. And he would be a fool to think that the Lord of the Malfoy family would have any qualms about using his only son in any fashion he would deem necessary to the cause, be it for the Malfoy wealth and power or the Dark Lord's reign. And somehow, it hurt being reduced time after time to the role of a spy, of a pawn in order to earn his own father's love and approval...

And now, for the first time, he was explicitly expected to enter the Dark Lord's service. As if a Malfoy would bow to anyone and do anyone's bindings... He had somehow always known that his father and his godfather had been involved in the war, on Voldemort's side, and that it would be almost impossible for them to get away from it now. But it didn't mean that he had to follow their example joyfully. He wasn't foolish enough to expose himself like that to threats and hurt from both sides of the war. Being a good Slytherin, by familial tradition as well as by personal choice, Draco had thoroughly analysed the situation, its history and its stakes before he had reached a conclusion he was sure his father wouldn't appreciate very much.

Maybe in the beginning, thirty years ago, people like his father and his godfather, now considered as the first generation of Death Eaters, had found some reason to choose this way. The Ministry had always been haunted by bigots. Pureblood families, those with a strong Slytherin tradition, the oldest in fact, had seen more often than not their advantages and positions stolen by some shiny muggleborn and halfblood nobody, whose muggle ancestors had hunted, hurt and killed them through the centuries. Imagine the great-great-grandson of a witch hunter, namely Fudge, becoming Minister of Magic, and it was easy to understand the uproar it had caused in some of the oldest pureblood families who had to hide from muggles for so long because of people like Fudges' ancestors. And if they as much as dared to protest, they were shunned and called racists and dark wizards. No wonder they had gone for it when a powerful charismatic leader had promised to fulfil their hopes of regaining their traditional positions as the ruling aristocracy of the wizarding society, of making them a menace to the muggles they used to fear. They were young, they were passionate, and they only had to follow the principles and pledges of their fathers.

But now, even if the general idea was far from unpleasant to a pureblood teenager like Draco, it seemed that the promised healing potion had become a painful poison. How many times during the summer vacations had he seen his father coming back from a dark meeting recovering from a cruciatus curse or more disillusioned than ever. The Death Eaters like his father and godfather were in fact held prisoners in their own trap, unable to back off their allegiance to their master, sworn twenty years ago. Draco was sure that his father hated the nearly constant humiliation of having to bow to every wish of the mad revenant, as he secretly liked to call him. But it was clear that now, their only chance to benefit from the situation -or more simply, to stay alive, unhurt and free- was to make sure that the side in which they were stuck with would win and force their point of view to the entire wizarding society. Hence their ever lasting fidelity to a master they feared and had grown to hate.

If only they weren't so eager to pull their offspring and heirs into their destiny behind them. Of course, it was only logical to them. The more fighters they had in their ranks, the more chances they stood to win the war. Already, his two 'bodyguards' were brainwashed into receiving the dark mark as soon as they would graduate. And like every other slytherin heir, they were already working on spying missions, or on more simple tasks for the 'cause' when requested by their father or their master. He wouldn't be surprised to learn that they had already joined a dark revel and taken part in some muggle torturing. It had become a family business of sort. But Draco wasn't sure that he would find any personal advantages in this engagement with Voldemort's armies. He really didn't suppose he would appreciate being given menial tasks to do, being ordered around, as if he wasn't the heir of one of the oldest pureblood lines of wizards, or being punished by cruciatus if his service wasn't satisfactory. Finding a way out of it, however, could be quite difficult, in case it would become necessary. For now, he had no choice whatsoever and would do what he was asked. What trouble could delivering a simple message to his godfather bring, after all?

* * *

><p>Dawn found Severus Snape in a position he had unfortunately grown accustomed to for the last few weeks of morning sickness: kneeling in front of the toilet of his bathroom. Merlin! He hated feeling so weak and miserable. And this taste in his mouth! Each morning, upon awakening, he knew that at the first move he would make to leave his bed, nausea would rise and he would spend his next fifteen minutes in this most undignified position on the stone floor. After one minute or two of this ordeal, a warm and calming hand would gently trace circles on his back and keep his hair out of harm's way. Then, when the fit would subside, and Severus would slowly straighten and stand up, a glass of water would he placed in his hand so that he would wash the awful taste. Finally, he would be presented with two crackers, as he had found out that only those could settle his stomach after his daily episodes.<p>

Of course, it would be tremendously easy to link these hands, glass and crackers to the person who was providing them, namely Harry James Potter... or should he say Potter-Snape ? But it would mean admitting that his husband was in fact a source of comfort to him, which he had not yet managed to fully admit to himself, even if it could be true... a little bit at least. Fact was, he had grown accustomed to that too, to Potter being present at this time of the day to help him. Of course, for the first week or so, he had made everything to dissuade him from invading his privacy and his personal space like that. But the boy had obviously decided that listening to him was utterly unnecessary, when he had received the authorisation, and even the strong advice from the headmaster himself to do just that, to be present along his pregnant husband to help and comfort him as best as he could. Those blasted wedding bands and their special portkey devices... but as it seemed that there was no way around that new habit of his, Severus had come to accept it... for now, at least.

Ten minutes later, they were stepping out of the bathroom into his bedroom, Severus with his trademark annoyed facial expression, and Harry, with a more dazed look in the eyes than usual. It was at this moment that the young man would usually activate his portkey that would bring him back to the place he came from, his bed in the Gryffindor dormitory most probably. But this morning, he was not so eager to leave, or to do anything, for that matter, but stand still on the spot. Something had to be bothering him, Severus surmised, when he saw his young guest was still in front of him after he had finished gathering this day's black robe, shirt and trousers from his closet.

"Harry?" he called the name Dumbledore had insisted he used in private for the teenager that happened to be both his student and his husband, masking a sigh behind a scowl of impatience. When no reaction came, he reiterated in a much more imperious tone "Harry !... Potter damn it !"

"uh ?..." came finally the very elaborate answer, along with a surprised widening of Harry's eyes and a little squeak. At least, he had woken up from his frozen state.

"what is it now, Harry ? What is wrong with you today ?" Severus enquired with a trace of irritation in his voice. He was quite eager to be left alone to prepare facing another day, and continuing this conversation wouldn't grant him that...

"Nothing, Sir... Severus." Just like the older man, he had still some difficulty to address his husband as Severus. Not that he didn't wish he could do it freely and naturally, but seeing the slightly disapproving frown on his face every time he used his given name had a very disheartening effect on Harry "I was just thinking..." he stated after a few seconds of silence, then he decided to go on before he could be kicked out of the room. Walking out of the bathroom and looking at the large fireplace, Harry had suddenly remembered something he couldn't decide whether it was important or significant. Maybe Snape would... "You see, last night I had a dream, like a vision, you know? It hadn't happened to me since late September... It was strange, not as clear as usual, and I can't remember everything. But I'm sure that Voldemort was involved in it. He was talking to someone, about a consort he wanted to meet... I don't know if it means anything... It was maybe just my imagination after all, but still, I'd rather tell you, in case..."

"What did you say?" Severus interrupted his babbling rather brutally. He had paled dramatically at the mention of the elements from the dream and it was clear now, through the link Harry shared with him, that it was no coincidence. Something in his description had really shaken him deeply, shattering for a moment his inner defences, suddenly overwhelmed by an irrational feeling of panic and fear... "Voldemort? wishing to meet someone he called Consort?"

"Yes, that's it." Harry answered seriously, reacting to the emotions he had felt pouring through the link. He couldn't understand what it all was about, but one thing was for sure: Severus seemed to know perfectly what was the meaning of his dream... or was it a vision ?

"What else do you remember? Could you describe me anything else : where it took place, who he was talking to, what he looked like, things like that ?" Severus continued his interrogation, eager to gather as much information as possible, in case what he feared he had understood, was the truth. Any detail could be important, if it could give him a chance to be ready when the time would come... He knew only too well who this consort was and for what reason Voldemort would want to meet that person... And thinking about it was sending shivers down his back.

"Well, as I was saying, it is really indistinct... it was only a dream after all... but if I ever remember anything, I'll tell you... " Harry hurried to assure him. From the reaction his words had drawn out of his usually so unreadable and stoic husband, he was now sure that something important was hidden behind it... be it important to Snape, to the side of the Light or for the Wizarding society, Harry didn't have a clue. But it only reinforced his determination to find out what this new mystery was about and to assist the man who was pregnant with his child as best as he could...

"Very well." Severus agreed coldly. He had just decided he wasn't really worried about the apparent lack of further information. After all, he would be the first informed if that new revelation was more than a dream. And he had a feeling that if it was indeed the case, he would know it really soon. "Don't worry yourself about that. You should get back to your dormitory, unless you want your roommates to find out you were ..."

A distant knocking on the outer door of his apartment suite resounded on the wall of the bedroom.

"...gone..." Severus finished his sentence before ordering softly but imperiously "Hurry up, get out"

With a last worried and dubious glance to the older man, Harry turned finally his wedding band around his finger and portkeyed out to his own four-poster bed.

* * *

><p>After getting dressed instantly thanks to a very practical spell, Severus hurried to the door, already in a foul mood for being disturbed this early in the morning, and most of all, when he really needed time to think this new revelation through and weight its possible consequences before any of it could befall on him... and his baby. As for this visitor, who he supposed could only be one of the staff or an older Slyterin, as no one else would dare commit such an irregularity... brutally opening the door, he discovered without much surprise that it was Draco Malfoy, the aristocratic Slytherin prefect, and incidentally his godson. Business, as usual... only a little early.<p>

"Excuse me for disturbing you at such an early hour, Sir" Draco started on the same tone of respect and confidence he was used to when speaking with his head of house. "But I need to speak to you urgently and if at all possible, discreetly" he stressed the last word in a way only the born Slytherin, those natural diplomats, could master, in order to increase the importance of this last bit. Knowing Severus Snape as well as he did, he was quite sure that this little detail wouldn't be lost on him.

"Very well. Come in." He invited him after a second or two of consideration, during which he had fully recognised and appreciated the seriousness on the young man's features. Severus was already trying to run through his mind the reason of this visit. One pertaining to his official prefect responsibility, maybe... That would be possible, but really, the secrecy and the early hour were definitely off. Maybe Draco was here for more personal advice, as he had been seeking many times in the past from his godfather. Severus had always taken to heart fulfilling this particular duty to protect, guide and support his godson in the magical as well as personal choices that the youngster would have to face all through his life. And no matter what, he had always made sure that Draco would know where the limits were, what goals he should try to reach, and by what means, who and where were is allies, and most important of all, who they weren't. But there was still a chance, Severus feared, that Draco was here on someone else's behalf, his father's or his father's master's. With the latest revelation he had received earlier this morning, there could be a chance... But there were no advantages on speculating like that.

Opening the door widely, he let Draco in, and, wasting only a short moment in closing the door and settling the wards and silencing charms back up, he directed his guest to a chair of his private office. "So, you needed to see me because..." He left the neutral sentence unfinished with a questioning undertone as soon as he sat down at his desk.

"I have been entrusted with a letter for you, sir." Draco started solemnly, pulling the white envelope from a large pocket of his robe and handing it to him. "Here, sir." He added politely before he started to explain with a trace of nervousness, when he realised that Severus had still not opened the letter and was watching him suspiciously instead. "I received it just before dawn by spying owl. It was enclosed in a message from my Father enjoining me to bring it to you as soon as possible and with the utmost discretion... and to wait for an answer. I thought it would be wiser to try at this time, as the corridors are pretty much still empty..."

"Hmm..." came the still reserved answer. Severus was still attentively scrutinising the envelope he was holding, as if trying to see through the white parchment without having to open it. To tell the truth, with all the warnings he had received recently, he already had dire intuition of its contents and what he was guessing wasn't pleasant at all. This degree of secrecy and solemnity... it had to be from Voldemort. It was his style...

If there was a thing Tom Riddle had understood, it was that actions only wouldn't give him the power he craved. Killing a muggle here, a mudblood there, and thinking that would be enough to change society would have been ludicrous. He had learned early in his life as a master of the dark arts and a megalomaniac dictator-wannabe that everything was in the impression you made on people, the fear you could pour in their heart and the symbols of control, power and invulnerability that you could send to both your followers and the Wizarding Society. His name, Voldemort, the French translation of 'flight of death', the morsmordre symbol of the death eaters and of their attacks, the sect-like army of secret agents spreading terror under their mask at night and being your good neighbour, your boss or your work colleague during the day, all reminded every witch and wizard of his existence and of his terrifying ambitions.

But for the members of the very private and secret order of his followers, he had formed structures and traditions of his own in order to keep each of them in check. A military hierarchy had been instituted, from the lowly foot soldier, the ordinary death eater who only knew his leader and the other members of his team, to the lieutenant, responsible for a group of ten men, the captain, who would supervise five of those groups, then the colonel who would order ten of those captains around. And above them was the lieutenant general, one Lucius Malfoy, who, under direct orders of his master, would co-ordinate the movements of the death eaters army. The ten colonels, all of them from a pureblood old aristocratic family, and Malfoy were the members of the inner circle, the most respected and feared of the whole structure, the direct counsellors of the Dark Lord, the only ones who were ever called in His presence regularly. Of course, every Death Eater had met Voldemort at least once, for their initiation, and during the general assembly, once a year. But to go up the ladder, you had to have power, as in immense reserves of raw magical force, ruthlessness, cunning, ambition, and most of all, you had to go through tests and mysterious ceremonies that would scare even the bravest. All in all, a political ideology supported by a secret army of terrorists held in respect and fear by special traditions centred on Voldemort himself. Severus had to admit, it was quite impressive, and Macchiavelli, this famous Dark Wizard of the Italian Renaissance, wouldn't have done better.

Severus' place in this organisation was unique. He was not one of them, had never been, in fact. He was above them all, untouchable by any of them but the Dark Lord alone. He had been chosen from the cradle to be part of Voldemort's private household, as his Consort. An impressive title indeed, even if Severus had never understood what had made him more eligible than anyone else to earn it. Other names could be Voldemort's little slave, his sex toy, his punching bag, if you asked Severus. If you had to see it from the other Death Eaters' point of view, you would see him as his favourite, his mate, his confident, his private counsellor, his student and, since he was 16, his Angel of Death, the one who brought justice and revenge amongst the ranks of the Dark Lord's army with Voldemort's full approval. All in all, one scary powerful lucky bastard you'd better not cross. Always wearing a mask, only the members of the Inner Circle knew of his identity... others had long spread the rumour of his mysterious existence and tales of his 'heroics' in the whole army... and the Wizarding World.

As in the muggle royal courts, Voldemort had made sure, when in public, to elevate his Consort above them all, to assure their respect, fear and obedience to Severus too... It only made his own prestige increase vicariously. Amongst the diverse marks of his unique place at Voldemort's side, Severus was never summoned magically if his meetings should be witnessed by any of the followers. He was invited instead... as if he could refuse anyway... It could take many forms, from just flooing him the request, to sending a messenger, always one of the purest blood, with an official letter for special occasions. He was asked, never publicly ordered around, showing off the fact that he was as untouchable as the Dark Lord, because he had earned his trust and respect by his fidelity and his skills... Voldemort behaved like a king toward his queen, in fact. Etiquette. No matter how little love and respect existed between them, in public, they had to demonstrate the peace, unity and honourability of their alliance. And of course, the old magical aristocrats understood and appreciated that mark of the old tradition.

Privately, it was another matter altogether... The thing was, to make sure his control over his consort was total, Voldemort had set a one way bond between them. If the mark Severus had on his arm since he was 11 years old was the sign of his acceptance of Voldemort's guidance, the serpent tattooed above his heart was a more lethal link. It would inject his magical venom and kill him if the Dark Lord should ever find him guilty of betrayal... No matter how far he would be, he would not be able to hide anywhere... Of course, the Dark Lord trusted him... how could he not, when such a threat to his existence had been carved indelibly in his flesh. Well, Severus had theorised that if he could rip it out of his skin in the five seconds after his death sentence had been ordered, he could live through the poisoning... but hardly through the following bleeding. Albus had even somehow come to the conclusion that Voldemort's first death had broken this deadly personal link... but Severus wasn't so sure about that and couldn't let himself hope foolishly on mere hypothesis. Either way, wether it still was active or not, for a long time, it hadn't bothered him as much as it should have. How useful would he be after all when his position as a spy would be compromised and he wouldn't be able to help Albus anymore? So why should he fear death in such a case. But now... ah! now he had a little spark of life that depended totally on him to consider... Now... now he prayed that Albus was right after all...

Shaking his head, Severus dismissed those unpleasant thoughts from the forefront of his mind to come back to more urgent matters... namely the letter he presumed to be Voldemort's. With a swift gesture, he unsealed the envelope and pulled out a small piece of parchment on which he immediately recognised the Dark Lord's distinctive handwriting. Sparing a glance to Draco, who was steadily watching his for any reaction, Severus schooled his face so that no emotion could ostensibly be displayed on it and began to read.

'My Angel of Death,  
>Too much time has already gone and passed away since I have seen you last. Your presence will be required at my side for Halloween's meeting. Our people wouldn't understand your absence and could start to question your position and authority over them. I wouldn't appreciate it. Will you apparate to me at 10PM tonight and spend the night where you belong? LV'<p>

Short and straight to the point. The order had finally come to get back to Voldemort's side and his bed too, most certainly. Severus wasn't surprised. He had been expecting it after all, even before he had received the letter, thanks to a goddamned dream. It didn't mean however that he was pleased with that new development in his recently much more complex life. He could even feel a wave of panic growing in him at the thought of what was bound to happen not 24 hours from now... But now was not the moment for such useless and crippling emotions. He would have to think it over... later. It was definitely not the time for letting his mask slip while the official messenger from Voldemort was still present. As he had learned soon in his life, the best defence was attack. If he didn't want Draco to think that he was upset, he would have to corner him about some other topic... and would put a few things straight between his godson and himself... maybe.

"Draco, do you know who wrote this letter?" Severus asked the startled teenager, waving the parchment in front of him.

"Officially no, Sir" Draco answered hesitantly, not really having expected any sort of questioning for his role in this simple message delivery. "But I could make a good educated guess, I think" he added, almost squirming under the hard glare of which he was the target.

"Do you realise the consequences of what you have done today, Draco ?" Severus went on as neutrally as he could, not wanting the younger man to know wether his teacher and godfather was approving or not of his action before he had acquired a full knowledge and understanding of Draco's position in this mess.

"I'm just doing a little favour to my father. That's all it is !" Draco tried defensively.

"Don't take me for a fool ! I'm quite sure you know better." Severus answered in a slightly sharper tone. "Giving me this letter was the first step of your engagement in Voldemort's service. If anyone had found it on you, you would spend the next few months in Azkhaban." He finally stated matter-of-factly, showing once again no anger, disappointment or pride, but keeping his feelings to himself until Draco would let something slip of his own reflections on the matter.

"I know..." came the soft answer, along with a little sigh. Since Draco had been a little boy, maybe 2 or 3 years old, Severus had been a constant in his life, the man he trusted even more than his own father, the 'parent' he had been looking up to, the wizard who had given him part of his magical power to him the day of his naming ritual, the friend he could confide in and find support with, the teacher who had shown him what magic really was. And this had only increased when he had arrived at Hogwarts, as his parents were no longer so close and Severus was the only family he had here. If only for that, and the knowledge that his godfather would never turn his back on him, no matter what, Draco finally decided to say the truth, what he was really thinking and not the bullshit he was ready to serve to anyone who was asking him about his political affiliations. "But I can hardly see how I could do anything else. I'm not really given any other choice, after all. I'm still under the total authority of my parents, if you had forgotten. I do what I am told in matters as important as this one. I wouldn't want to have to go to my father's funerals just because I didn't want to bring you a message, even from Him, you know!"

"Right..." Severus replied with a long sigh. He paused, took a few seconds to study his godson's face, looking for some sign, wondering maybe how honest he should be with the youngster. Then, suddenly, he turned his head slightly on the right and stared at some seemingly empty spot behind Draco, a very annoyed expression flashing in his eyes, before he quickly focussed his attention back on his godson. "Listen, Draco... I don't know how much you were told about me" he started, a bit hesitantly, gambling his safety in the bet he was making on the degree of trust he would put on the boy. "but I'm in a position to shelter you if need be from any of the Dark Lord's attempts to take you as his servant."

Suddenly, conflicting emotions could be read on Draco's face, while his eyes held a mixed of disbelief and hope. "But how?" he asked bewildered. All his life he had been surrounded by people whose political and ideological involvement had been clear and firm and who had always expected him to follow in the steps of his familial engagement. But now, for the first time, he had been given a hint that there could be another choice, and not only in dreams, for him.

"Simple enough. My... relations on both sides of this war give me a good deal of leverage in some matters. The trust Dumbledore has decided to bestow on me covers my back and protects me and those I choose to help from the attacks of the so called 'good people', aurors, ministry agents and Griffyndors... I could easily convince him that your involvement with Voldemort and the Death Eaters is nonexistent and that you're harmless to the 'cause' so that they would leave you alone." Severus started to explain matter-of-factly, in a very pragmatic slytherin way, but without ever mentioning his own loyalty. Even if he considered Draco trustworthy in his desire to escape from a forced initiation among the ranks of the Death Eaters, it was no reason to foolishly jeopardise his own position and safety. "Whereas my position at the Lord's sides offers me some... advantages and influence on this front too. Don't ask me how, but I could try and claim you as my personal feudal servant or apprentice... some title like that anyway. As your loyalty would be exclusively sworn to me, He couldn't make you one of His Death Eaters. And your father wouldn't dare reject such a request from me, more so if the Lord had agreed to it. It's not unheard of between our families, or between a godfather and his godson, at any rate, and it could give you at least a few more years of peace."

Draco took a few moments to ponder what he had just been told. His face had been carefully schooled to remain blank at times like this, but under the sharp eye of his godfather, glimpses of emotions were discernible as the young wizard's thoughts battled behind his forehead. The spark of hope Severus had believed he had seen earlier in the conversation was definitely back with a vengeance. But it was quite clear that what had just been said between them was a mysterious puzzle to the youngster who was torturing his brain in an effort to understand. Finally, he gave up and simply asked a bit cautiously. "But why would you do that for me? I mean... if I had asked my father for a way to keep out of the Death Eaters ranks, he would have called me a traitor, beaten the rebellion out of me and dragged me to the next Dark Revel to be branded by the Dark Lord. So, what I don't understand is why you would help me becoming what my father and all your 'colleagues' call a deserter."

"Simple once again," Severus answered calmly, deadly serious. "I'm willing to help you to betray the expectations of both your father and the Dark Lord because I care. Because I know how destructive and painful this war as been and will most certainly come to be once again. Because I don't particularly want you and the next generation of wizards and witches to be lost in this unnecessary suffering when you shouldn't have to pay for the actions and the errors of your parents. Because if it's definitely too late for me and your father, it's not too late for you yet. You don't have to get involved. You don't have to become a death eater, but you shouldn't be forced to fight them, and among them your family and friends. If I have only one wish and one piece of advice for you, it's to remain neutral in this war. If I can help you achieve that goal, be sure that I consider it my duty as your godfather who has been sworn to watch out for you and guide you, to do so."

Judging by the amazed and shaken expression sported by Draco, it was quite clear to Severus that his little heart to heart speech had made a positive impression on his godson. But, once again turning his gaze to the same empty spot slightly on the Slytherin prefect's right, he decided that it wasn't maybe the perfect time and place to continue this conversation. "I don't ask you for an answer right now, Draco, but you should think about what we have just discussed and come back when you'll have made up your mind." He dismissed the teenager who still seemed lost in his thoughts as he made his way to the door.

After making sure that the door had been locked behind his student, Severus sat back at his desk, search through a few parchments, wrote a few comments on a few of them, put down his quill and finally, staring straight at this same mysterious spot, called out irritated: "How much longer will you stay under your invisibility cloak, Harry James Potter-Snape?"

* * *

><p>Said Harry James Potter-Snape complied, if a little reluctantly, throwing away his father's magical device, and finally appeared on the very same spot Severus had stared at a few minutes ago. Standing immobile in front of the desk, confident and embarrassed, staring at the older man he instinctually knew was going to insult and punish him copiously, Harry was waiting for the storm to rip him apart... and was quite surprised when it never happened. Instead, his eyes fixed on the arrogant teenager, Severus drew a deep breath, shook his head in a strangely powerless way, pushed his forefinger on the bridge of his nose, and finally sighed.<p>

"You'll excuse me if I don't start yelling at you," Severus started in a soft and maybe fatigued tone, "but I'm quite tired at this moment and I'm neither in the mood nor really interested in wasting my time and energy in a hopeless case. You'll always do whatever you want to do, never considering the consequences and feelings of everybody involved. I'm aware of that fact and I have already accepted it a few years ago. But, Merlin! Couldn't you grow up a little, and become responsible at times ? Not every minute of your day, mind you. But when I'm involved, privately or in any public capacity, I'd appreciate the effort, believe me!" A touch of frustration and dejected realism had appeared somewhere along the speech too, but still devoid of angry cries and furious gesture.

"Wha... What are you talking about?" Harry asked, taken aback by the tone of the conversation and the impression of depression and mental exhaustion he had felt behind it and, in a lesser intensity, through the link they shared as well. It was quite out of character for Professor Severus Snape, if you asked him. Instead of the lecture he had expected, and maybe deserved, he was now getting an argument... It was really disturbing... yes, quite unsettling.

"What am I talking about ? Yes, indeed, whatever could I be talking about !" Severus repeated the question rhetorically before sighing once again. " I find you crowding me, sneaking up on me and spying on me and you have no idea of what I'm talking about? do you take me for a fool? Do you think that I will accept it just like that? What is it? You don't trust me to be by myself? You think that I'm plotting your desmise with my Slytherin students? Or maybe you're already trying to make sure that I'm not cheating on you ? Should I be giving you reports of every one of my dayly activities as well?" His voice had dropped to a furious whisper that was more terrifying than the loudest yelling he could have used.

"What ? I... It's not like that..." Under such a flow of frustration and accusations directed so suddenly at him, Harry, quite a bit taken aback, found himself in some difficulty to produce a satisfying answer. Could it be one of those 'mood swings' he had read about ? Harry was literally bewildered, by now. Lost in the middle of a conversation that had taken a very unfamiliar and troubling turn some times ago. Unconsciously, he could almost feel that they had already left the strangely normal teacher-student ground to become... something else, as if suddenly he was expected to be the adult, the equal you had an argument with, not the student you were trying to belittle. Too new... too disturbing. Harry was now desperate to get the conversation back to more usual grounds... " I was just checking on you to see if you were all right. I was worried about you when I felt some strong emotion along the mind link... that's all. I wasn't spying on you or anything, for Merlin's sake! You're overreacting." He tried to explain himself at last... with very little calming effect yet.

"So now, I'm overreacting, am I? I'm not the one who was eavesdropping under an invisibility cloack. You are. And even if you only came because you were worried about me and my health, as you say, there was no reason for you to stay like that after you had seen that I was perfectly well. I call it spying !" Severus snarled, irritated by the youngster's difficult explanations. "That's not even the matter. It's just one example amongst many others..." He then paused, closing his eyes for a few seconds, taking a deep breath, as if trying to cast all his anger away, before he started again, staring directly in Harry's eyes, hoping to finally drive some sense into him. " I find that there are a few basic rules and truths about our situation that we never discussed or even mentioned. It's maybe time for us to get to it before it's too late. You remember the ceremony on the equinox night? Yes?"

"Of course, I do. How could I forget it?" Harry replied, impatiently, getting quite annoyed by this new turn of the conversation toward what promissed to be another uncomfortable topic.

Severus snorted in answer to this last comment and, without leaving time for Harry to tell anything else, went on with whatever he had to say. "We're married, and by june 21st next year, we'll be a familly. And believe it or not, there is absolutely no way out. We're stuck together for eternity. You should start to think about it, you know ? We won't be in this school forever. But as for myself, I have a few ideas of what it means to me, to us. You see, in the wizarding world, OUR world, there's little chance the heir of a most ancient and noble pureblooded house can choose their husband or wives, and even less that they marry out of love. Arranged wedding is the key word. And, if an optimistic fool, a Gryffindor or a Hufflepuff hope that they'll come to understand their bondmate, and from there, to respect, admmire, cherish and finally fall in love this their spouse, I don't quite share this view and picture our future like that. I wouldn't expect it from you either. I'm no fool... And feelings are not everything, after all."

Taking a short pause, Severus took a moment to observe fully the reactions of the teenager. His eyes slightly widdened, like a deer caught in the flashlights, his skin a little paller than before, Potter had been listening to him with a panicked and horrified expression written on his face. It was no mystery that this topic was having the youngster very ill-at-ease. And if Severus had to be truthfull with himself, he had to admit that if he hadn't known how to school his expression so masterfully, such a feeling could be also read in his own eyes. But this conversation had been long overdue and he had a point to make for both their sake.

"Slytherins and Ravenclaws, however, have more realistic ideas on familly and marriage. What's holding the familly, and most importantly, the spouses together, is the fact that they aim for the same goal, be it the protection and betterment of the clan, the social, political and financial development of their common status, the love of their children, their honour or their duty to the familly. From this unity of goal comes their mutual respect and loyalty. It's what I swore to you in my wedding vows. It's what you'll always find in me for you. It's what our marriage and our relationship entails, in my opinion. RESPECT and LOYALTY... as in a partnership, not as in slavery. You're not my master. I still have a right to have my own mind, my own freedom of thought and my privacy. You don't see me interfering in your relationship with your familly and friends. Show me the same courtesy, if you please. Remember it the next time you feel the temptation to spy on me. RESPECT and LOYALTY. Think about it. It's what will save us from a living hell." Severus finished his speech, his declaration of intentions. Judging by the look of confusion and panic that still edged in the boy's eyes, the message would most certainly take time to sink in... It didn't really matter for now. There would be other occasions.

It took Harry almost two minutes to find anything to answer to such a speech. For the past six weeks, he had managed to accept that the wedding, the bonding, the conception of his child had actually happened, that it was neither a nightmare nor a sick joke. He had even come to understand that Severus Snape, who happened to be his husband- and the word still felt very weird - wasn't a horrible monster he had always believed him to be, that even if he was far from being the role model of a nice person, he certainly didn't lack in courage and honnor. Harry was getting more and more openminded about the situation. And even though his instinct often shouted at him to get his things, run as far as possible, and forget all about Dark Mages, death threats, arranged marriages, pregnant husband, duty, secrecy and future prophetised doom, he had tried to do the right thing. Day after day, he took responsibility for all that and came to help Snape as best as he could and really, as best as he knew how.

But he had always taken it day by day, in the now. He had tried pretty hard not to think about the future. The dive was too overwhelming... he felt he could drown in the ocean of possibilities... and most of all, whatever horizon he could manage to glimpse was utterly terrifying for the teenager he was. He hadn't even thought about what he wanted to do after his graduation... if he was still alive, that is. And of course, if he started to consider his life, he would have to integrate his being married, his being a father in it... It was no longer the day by day crisis, they were talking about forever, about all his life, as in he would never have any choice about it... Well, intellectually, he understood that. But when Severus was telling him that they were now and would always be a familly, when he talked about clan strategy and spouse diplomacy, it became frighteningly real, reminding him suddenly how childish and far from being an adult he actually felt. Harry had made up in his mind the picture of living with a man he hardly knew and didn't care about forever. Scary... What had Severus said? Oh, yes, the gryffindorish understanding turning into respect, then into admiration, tenderness and finally love... It sounded quite nice actually, even if a bit strange... If one day, he could find in himself to reach that...

Swallowing loudly, Harry draw a deep breath and finally answered. "Thank you", he began solemnly but withou a lot of assurrance. "Be sure that I agree to those terms and will do my best to live up to them. Also, I apologise for intruding so rudely on your private conversation with your godson." He added finally, guessing that there was no time like now to start with this "Respect and Loyalty" thing.

Severus stared at him, fixing his intensely black eyes on Harry's green ones, surprised by this sudden and quite promising change of attitude, studying him for a whole thirty seconds, as if trying to figure how sincere the young man could be, and finally nodded curtly, scealing their agreement.

"You should be going now" he dimissed him at last, "your friends will soon be looking for you for breakfast."

* * *

><p>Alone in his rooms for the first time since he had woken up this morning, Severus used the twenty minutes he had left before he would be expected to show himself in the Great Hall, to think through the news and revelations of the past hour and a half, analyse them coldly and take a decision. The invitation, or should he say Voldemort's order, he had received left him really no choice. Not going would be really satisfying, as he wouldn't be in His presence, and most of all, wouldn't risk his unborn child's health or life, but it was neither realistic, nor pragmatic. Not going would mean rebellion, and that would entail at the very least punishment. At the worst, Voldemort could even understand it as defection, as the act of a traitor, and hunt him down, teach him a very painful lesson, decide to keep him full time by his sides, or even kill him. Not going now would mean going iton hiding right now, and would be really too dangerous for himself and his future familly. On the other hand, no matter how distateful being in Voldemort's presence had become, what was expected of him tonight was more about death eaters politics and rituals than pleasuring the dark lord... If he was cunning and devious enough, he wouldn't even get to see the Dark Mage's bedroom tonight... And of course, there was tactical bonus if he was there: in the first place, he would bring some very interesting data on the state of Voldemort's army, on some of the deatheaters... and secondly, maybe he would be able to begin his self found mission of preventing Draco's introduction into the ranks of the Death Eater youth. The conclusion was far from easy to accept happily, but he deemed it the best for the situation and time being.<p>

As for knowing wether he would tell anyone of his departure tonight, he wasn't sure. Certainly not Harry... who knows what stupid Gryffindor stunt he would pull if he got it into his mind to play the hero over this? The boy had certainly too much on his mind already with the little talk they just had, to think about spying on his husband so soon afterwards as notice his absence. Lupin? Absolutely not! The werewolf would run straight to Dumbledore... And for the first time in years, Severus wasn't so sure that he should inform the Headmaster of this invitation. With Severus' new status, his pregnancy and his new importance to the Light Side, it was quite possible that Albus wouldn't want to risk any harm that could come to his spy and would forbid him to go... and it wouldn't do... it wouldn't do at all...


End file.
